
>A 
















Class “P Z3 

Book . V-iTS o s H 

Copviiglit N° 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
























































































































































































































































































































































































































































]-[erbert Drown 

A Thrilling Religious and 
Moral Story 


By 


O. B. WHITAKER 

H 


Author of “Poor Dick and Winning Willie,” “Lectures 
and Poems,” etc. 



> > 


CHICAGO 

M. A. Donohue & Company 

407-429 Dearborn Street 



..jr^.RYof *30N3KESS 

(VVC Oopiai iitfcBlVGU 

OCT. 14 1905 

$owngtu cnu* 

J V. /+*i 

■J&g (X Ate «a 

/aii4 7 



Copyrighted by 

O. B. WHITAKER 

Lincoln, Kansas 


TO THE CAUSE OF TRUTH 
AND THE BETTERING OF MY 
FELLOWMEN THIS VOLUME 
IS DEDICATED BY 

The A uthor 







































J^erbert J3 rown 

A Thrilling Religious and Moral Story 


CHAPTER I. 

AN EVENING AT SANDPRE. 

“How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the 
gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things.” 
— Rom. 10:15. 

The rays of the setting sun, blushing red 
with love and warmth and sympathy, leapt 
across the far-stretching level western prai- 
ries, and kist good-night the beautiful town of 
Sandpre, at the close of a Sabbath autumn 
“Indian-summer” day. Herds of cattle scat- 
tered here and there over the unbroken 
sward were peacefully cropping the rich 
close-curled Buffalo grass, or following the 
beaten peaceful paths toward the corrals or 
resting places. Ranch houses with their ac- 
companying stables and sheds dotted the ho- 
rizon at intervals, and gave to the otherwise 


6 


HERBERT BROWN 


wild and desolate scene a homelike appear- 
ance. A group of cow-boys came galloping 
into town, and the lowering sun sent their 
shadows, glimmering and ghostlike, gliding 
over the level landscape. The western heav- 
ens were lighted up with a golden glory as 
the sun sank slowly below the horizon; and 
yet there was a touch of melancholy, if not 
a coloring of sadness, to the beautiful picture. 
At least, so it seemed to the eyes of a young 
man and a young woman standing one on 
either side of the closed gate at the residence 
of Mr. Winnow, gazing with intelligent, 
ihoughtful faces toward the setting sun. 

“Herbert, you know how father and moth- 
er think in this matter; and I know that 
should I join the — the — your church, they 
should never feel right about it.” 

“Yes, I know, Theora,” answered the other 
slowly and thoughtfully, “but” — and looking 
into the face beside him, he saw the great 
deep blue eyes filling with tears, and added 
quickly, “O well, we’ll talk that over some 
other time. Shall I call for you at half past 
seven?” 

“Yes, Herbert; good-bye.” 

“Good-bye.” 

As Herbert Brown walkt away, he lookt 
even more manly than usual. He stood near- 


AN EVENING AT SANDPRE 


7 


ly six feet in height, and tho rather slender 
was yet well proportioned and strongly and 
gracefully built — strong, neatly carved limbs, 
well shapt head beautifully poised upon full 
square shoulders, a face indicating intelli- 
gence, strong character and a sympathetic 
nature, and a full high forehead well set off by 
the raven locks upon it. 

“After all/* he mused aloud to himself, 
“may be I ought not to have mentioned it to 
her. I most wish I hadn’t.” 

Herbert Brown entered the door of his fath- 
er’s neat cottage, tosst his hat carelessly 
upon the bed and turned his face to the win- 
dow looking out upon the street. He stood 
with his hands thrust into his pockets, a puz- 
zled expression of sadness, or regret, playing 
upon his handsome features. The vision of 
that face, with its lovely pure eyes filling with 
tears persisted in lingering before him. It 
was the first time he had ever seen tears 
in those eyes, tho the couple had been 
acquainted for nearly five years — since 
the time when her parents had moved to 
Sandpre from the eastern part of the state. 
Their courtship had extended over the last 
three years, and they had been engaged for 
nearly a year. 

Theora Winnow was the daughter of a well- 


8 


HERBERT BROWN 


to-do ranchman, who had taken up his head- 
quarters at Sandpre some five years before. 
She was the belle of the town. She was ac- 
complisht, yet combined with it a native shy- 
ness and modesty that no culture or training 
could give. Tho she had spent much of her 
life on the frontier, her education had not been 
neglected. She could catch, bridle, saddle and 
mount her horse alone; and had gallopt many 
a time unattended over the rolling prairies, 
or at the side of her father. She had even 
learned to throw the lasso and to shoot the 
revolver. But, contrary to the usual tendency 
or inclination of environments like these, such 
a life had not developt in her that coarseness, 
or masculinity, so often developt by such ex- 
periences and attainments; but she had re- 
tained that exquisite, undefinable femininity 
so highly prized by man, and that should be 
more highly prized by her own sex. Tho 
Herbert Brown had never taken upon himself 
to analyze those rare qualities that distin- 
guish her, yet he recognized them as a whole, 
and more than all that he had read in those 
deep, rich eyes a fullness of love that was 
more precious to him than life itself and all 
the world combined. For the first time a 
serious difficulty had arisen between them, 
which was the more annoying because of its 


AN EVENING AT SANDPRE 


9 


stubborn obstinacy. The more he thought 
about it the more unsolvable it seemed and the 
more undecided he became. He was awaken- 
ed from his deep reverie by the opening of the 
dining-room door behind him, and a voice — 

“Come, Herbert; we’ve already eaten our 
supper; and yours, I’m afraid, is about cold. 
Shall I fry you an egg?” 

“O no, I don’t care for any. Really, I’m 
not much hungry anyway,” he replied, as he 
seated himself at the table. 

“Are you going to church tonight?” 

The speaker was a lady about fifty years of 
age, somewhat gray, slightly more than me- 
dium height, a face that indicated more than 
ordinary intelligence and markt character. 
The resemblance in features pointed her out 
at once as the mother of the young man. But 
before he could answer there was a rap at 
the door. 

“Why, good evening, Mrs. Trego. Come 
in,” said Mrs. Brown, opening the door. 

“Good evening, Mrs. Brown. Good even- 
ing, Herbert.” 

“Good evening, Mrs. Trego,” said the young 
man, bowing. 

“O my!” exclaimed Mrs. Trego, heaving a 
deep sigh, “I’m almost out of breath. I’ve 
just been over to see Jake Adams again. I 


10 


HERBERT BROWN 


tell you it’s just simply a shame the way that 
poor fellow’s been treated. He’s just been 
nagged and nagged, until he doesn’t know 
what to do. He told me this evening that he 
didn’t know whether he’d join any church or 
not.” 

“How does Mrs. Adams feel about it, Mrs. 
Trego?” askt Mrs. Brown. 

“Why, she told me after Jake had gone out 
that she would gladly go with him to any 
church he wanted to join. You see they don’t 
understand anything about the differences 
among the different churches. You know she 
was a member of the Lutheran church before 
she came here, and as she did not find that 
church here she did not unite with any. Poor 
Sarah ! I pity her, for she seems to feel so bad 
about Jake. She cried while she was talking 
to me. She says she believes he is losing his 
religion. I tell you, it’s too bad ! Really, it’s 
too bad!” 

“Yes, indeed it is too bad,” answered Mrs. 
Brown. “That poor woman has had such a 
hard time of it anyway all her life, at least 
since her husband was killed. She has had to 
work so hard to make a living for herself and 
Jake, and she has tried so hard to keep him 
right. She seems to worship that boy. I 
never could understand how she bore up at 


AN EVENING AT SAN DP RE 


11 


all, as he grew worse and worse, until he had 
gotten to be nothing but a drunken, swear- 
ing, gambling, fighting wretch. Many a time 
she has washt all day, and then at night gone 
up town and helpt bring him home, when he 
was so drunk he couldn’t walk alone, and then 
sat up all night and watched him.” 

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Trego, “I think Jake 
Adams was certainly the lowest, vilest, most 
helpless character in town when that meeting 
began. There was certainly not a good thing 
in him. Everybody had lost all hopes of him, 
unless it was his poor tired mother.” 

“And what a surprise his conversion was ! 
How happy poor Sarah was that night. You 
remember how she shouted and clapt her 
hands until she was so weak she could not 
stand any longer. And really it was no won- 
der, for had the dead actually been ^brought 
back to life it could not have meant more to 
her.” 

“O yes, I remember it all,” said Mrs. Tre- 
go, “and I believe that the conversion of Jake 
Adams had more to do with the success of 
that meeting than did anything else. You 
remember there had been only one conver- 
sion before that, and there were fifteen the 
very next night, and over one hundred the 
next week. Everybody could see that Jake’s 


12 


HERBERT BROWN 


conversion was genuine, and that had more in- 
fluence than any sermon could have.’’ 

Let us break in upon this conversation for 
a moment to explain to the reader the events 
that had recently transpired in the town, and 
that had led up to the subject of conversa- 
tion. 

A few weeks before a “union” meeting had 
been arranged for by the four churches of the 
town — the Presbyterian, the Methodist, the 
Baptist, and the United Brethren. There was 
also a Catholic church in the town, but it took 
no part in the meeting. A large tent was 
rented, and an evangelist, Rev. Greedor, a 
man of considerable reputation in that field 
of work, was secured to conduct the meeting. 
The different churches had for the past sev- 
eral years attempted separate revivals with- 
out much success for any of them, and as this 
plan had succeeded admirably in other places 
from which they had heard they had decided 
to try it here. The first week of the meeting 
was almost without apparent results, when 
one night, to the surprise of all, Jake Adams, 
the most hopeless character in the town, came 
forward, led by his mother, a frail little wash- 
er-woman, a widow, to ask for prayers. The 
news of his conversion spread like wildfire 
throughout the town and the community, and 


AN EVENING AT SANDPRE 


13 


many, even those who had never before at- 
tended church, came thru curiosity not more 
to see Jake Adams and to hear him testify in 
church than to see and hear the man whose 
miraculous power could convert such a char- 
acter. The next evening quite a number fol- 
lowed the example of Jake, and at the end of 
the week the meeting closed in the midst of 
great enthusiasm, with nearly one hundred 
converts reported. So good was the feeling 
that when the local pastors, carefully instruct- 
ed by the evangelist, called for voluntary con- 
tributions for the minister who had labored so 
faithfully among them for the past two weeks 
a purse of nearly four hundred dollars was 
made up for him, and that night the amount 
was increased to over five hundred. 

A little card was filled out for each convert, 
on which was written his “church preference,” 
and the cards were then handed to the respec- 
tive pastors. In case no church preference 
was given, the card was markt “undecided,” 
and the representatives of any or all the 
churches might call upon such an one. As 
Jake had never given much attention to re- 
ligious matters he had no church preference; 
in fact, he was too much interested in his own 
salvation to consider that matter at all; and 
so his card was markt “undecided. ” As a re- 


14 


HERBERT BROWN 


suit he and his mother were promptly visited 
by representatives of each of the churches, 
and later by other representatives, and by the 
pastors, also. 

“I think, Mrs. Trego, you are mistaken/’ 
said Herbert, who up to this time had been a 
silent listener to the conversation between 
the two women, “when you say that there 
was nothing good about Jake before his con- 
version. While he was a hard drinker and 
often drunken, and swore and gambled a good 
deal, and was in a good many brawls and 
fights, yet he had the reputation of keeping 
his word, except when he was drunk, and he 
never went back on a friend.” 

“I think you are right, Herbert. There was 
so much bad about him that I really had for- 
gotten the good. But, by the way, Herbert, 
why don’t you go and talk with him?” askt 
Mrs. Trego. 

“Talk with him about what, Mrs. Trego?” 

“About joining the church.” 

“What church?” 

“Why, Herbert, how you talk ! What 
church do you belong to?” 

“To the Presbyterian, I suppose.” 

“Why don’t you go and ask Jake to join 
the Presbyterian church? I believe you could 
have an influence with him. It would just be 


AN EVENING AT SANDPRE 


15 


a shame for the Methodists to get them. They 
are doing their very best, too, and trying 
every means, fair and unfair. The little his 
mother has attended worship since she has 
been here has been at the Presbyterian church, 
and two-thirds of her washings now are from 
Presbyterian families, and we are entitled to 
them. Why won’t you go and talk with them 
about it, Herbert?” 

“What would I say to him?” 

“Why, just ask him to join your church.” 

“But really I don’t care whether he joins 
the Presbyterian church or some other.” 

“Herbert, Herbert,” spoke his mother, 
“you are certainly a little out of humor this 
evening. You realize that we should stand up 
for our own church, and use our influence to 
build it up and strengthen it for future useful- 
ness. I know you do not mean all you are 
saying, Herbert.” 

“Well, probably not quite all I have said, 
mother; but I tell you I believe this fighting 
among the churches over the converts of this 
meeting is going to drive poor Jake Adams 
and probably many others of the converts 
back to the world; and besides that I am sure 
it is destroying the enthusiasm and spirituality 
of the others. Pm sure I do not feel just as 
I did.” 


16 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Yes, Herbert,” replied his mother, “but 
because others use misrepresentation and 
other unfair means is no reason we should 
abandon the field.” 

“But, mother” — and just then the clock 
struck, and turning, Herbert saw that the 
hands pointed to half past seven, and spring- 
ing quickly to his feet, said — 

“You'll have to excuse me, please. I have 
an engagement,” and snatching his hat from 
the bed, he hurried out of the house. 


CHAPTER II. 

OLD TIM GRIGGS’ THEOLOGY. 


“But judge this rather, that no man put a stumbling- 
block or an occasion to fall in his brother’s way.” — Rom. 
14:13. 

“Waal, reely, Parson, I don’ give a d — n 
fer yer religin, er yer churches, an’ all thet; 
but it does seem ter me thet you fellers in the 
churches does a lot o’ thin’s thet us ol’ tuffs 
wouldn’t do.” 

The speaker was a man of low, heavy build, 
powerful frame, his long hair, reaching to the 
shoulders, decidedly gray, the face covered 
with a rough grizzly beard, the eyes, tho 
blurred by age, yet sharp, and, when animated, 
almost fierce, a decidedly weatherbeaten coun- 
tenance, and a nose and mouth — in fact, the 
entire physiognomy — that indicated boldness, 
fearlessness, decision, strong character — the 
typical frontiersman. Nor does his appear- 
ance belie the character of the man before us, 
for “Old Tim Griggs” was one of the earliest 
settlers in this country, and was well known 

as a buffalo hunter, an Indian fighter, a man 
17 


18 


HERBERT BROWN 


without fear, and the most daring of those 
dare-devil characters that roamed the western 
plains in the dangerous days of the sixties and 
the seventies. He would resist an insult as 
readily as a blow, and yet he would at any 
time discommode himself in order to accom- 
modate a friend. No bully ever cowed him, 
and no one in need ever called upon him in 
vain. His name carried terror into the Indian 
camp, and his presence was a guaranty of 
safety in the settler’s home. His face had 
been a welcome vision on many a dangerous 
occasion. Now, that those days of peril and 
excitement were past, he sat for hours, and 
recounted with the greatest pleasure thrilling 
experiences of frontier life. Aside from this, 
he was a man of but few words ; but he had 
the habit of saying what he pleased, when he 
pleased and where he pleased. In spite of his 
rough, uncouth exterior, every old settler had 
a warm spot in his heart for “Uncle Tim.” 

The occasion of the conversation of which 
the above is a part was a meeting of two or 
three members of the Presbyterian church 
and their pastor, the Rev. Mr. Collins, in the 
general store of I. C. Brown, the father of 
Herbert Brown. Each of the churches had 
accused each of the others of unfairness in 
their zeal for securing the converts of the re- 


OLD TIM GRIGGS’ THEOLOGY 


19 


cent meeting, and the fight had waxed quite 
warm, especially between the Methodist and 
the Presbyterian churches. In fact, it had be- 
come the principal matter of conversation in 
the town. 

“I agree with you, Mr. Griggs,” said the 
minister, turning rather indifferently toward 
the shabby looking old man that had ven- 
tured the above comment on their conversa- 
tion, “I agree with you that a great many 
things have been done and said that have 
brought a reproach upon the cause of Christ; 
and no one regrets it more than I ; but the 
fact that some in the churches act thus ought 
not to be an occasion for one to condemn the 
church, religion and Christ.” 

“I didn’t say a word ’bout Christ. I said 
I didn’t give a d — n fer yer church er yer re- 
ligin, an’ I tell ye I don’t. I don’ know nothin’ 
’bout Christ ’at I’d fin’ fault with; but I want 
ter tell ye right here ef any mortal man ’ud 
say ’bout me w’at I heerd ye say ’bout the 
Meth’dis’ preecher jes’ now, er half 
wa’t I heerd ’im say ’bout ye in 
Whalin’s hardware store jes’ yisterdy, 
he’d haf ter answer fer it. I never talk 
thet way ’bout no man ’less I mean bis’ness, 
an’ ef any man talks thet way ’bout me, I’ll 
make bis’ness fer ’im,” replied the old man, his 


20 


HERBERT BROWN 


eyes sparkling somewhat, as they turned full 
upon the minister. 

“I regret very much, Mr. Griggs, that such 
an occasion is afforded the outside world to 
criticise, and I assure you that were not the 
provocation too great to pass without notice, 
I should by no means engage in such criti- 
cism of a brother minister,” replied the pastor, 
with a shade of timidity. 

“Brother minister? D’ye call ’im brother 
minister?” 

“Why, certainly.” 

“D’ye think a feller can be a Meth’dis’ an’ 
be a Christin?” 

“I’m sure he can.” 

“An’ can a Baptis’ be a Christin?” 

“Most assuredly.” 

“An’ a Cam’lite?” 

“Why, yes, I grant all that.” 

“Then w’at’s the use o’ all these churches?” 

“The function of the church is to bring sal- 
vation to a lost and perishing world, and to 
look after the spiritual welfare of its mem- 
bers.” 

“Waal, I don’ know nuthin’ ’bout thet — don’ 
know w’at ye mean by them words — mebby 
they’re all right. But w’at I want ter ask ye 
is, w’at’s the use o’ so many churches in a 
little place like this? I heerd the feller ’at 


OLD TIM GRIGGS' THEOLOGY 


21 


wus preachin’ at the tent say ’at Christ found- 
ed the church. Did ’e foun’ all o’ ’em?” 

“Well, no; Christ founded but one church,” 
replied the minister, thoughtfully. 

“War’d the res’ uv ’em come frum, then?” 

“The divisions in the Christian church have 
arisen from the erroneous attempts of man to 
define the Holy Scriptures,” replied the min- 
ister, with more boldness 

“I don’ understan’ thet; but do ye mean 
thet all but one uv ’em is wrong, an’ thet the 
Presbyterian church is thet one?” 

“Well, no; er — er — that is, I should say that 
I believe the Presbyterian church comes near- 
er the truth than does any of the others.” 

“Then ye think it is partly wrong, too, do 
ye ?” 

“Well, no; to tell the truth, I believe its 
doctrines are all in perfect harmony with the 
Scriptures.” 

“Did the feller ’at preached at the tent 
b’long to the Presbyterian church?” 

“You mean Rev. Greedor, the evangelist?” 

“Waal, I don’ know w’at ye call ’im.” 

“I do not know to what church he belonged. 
As a rule these evangelists do not make known 
their church affiliations, as that would un- 
doubtedly prejudice those of other denomina- 


22 


HERBERT BROWN 


tions, and thus curtail much of their useful- 
ness. ,, 

“He didn’t seem ter be so back’ard ’bout 
mentionin’ the c’lection.” 

“And yet there is certainly nothing to criti- 
cise in that,” said the minister, “for ‘The la- 
borer is worthy of his hire.’ ” 

“Waal, yes; I reckon so; but it looks ter me 
like purty big hire. How much wus made up 
fer ’im?” 

“The collection amounted to something over 
five hundred dollars, but it must be remem- 
bered that it was all voluntary contribution.” 

“How long wus he here?” 

“About two weeks.” 

“Thet’s about a thousand dollars a month, 
ain’t it?” 

“Well, yes; but when we remember the 
wonderful blessing brought to this town 
through that meeting — more than one hun- 
dred souls saved — such an amount becomes 
very insignificant.” 

“I b’lieve thet feller’d a tuk two thousand ef 
it’d a ben offered ’im, don’t ye?” 

“If it had been a voluntary contribu- 
tion, I suppose he would, and it would have 
been all right for him to have done it.” 

“Waal, mebby it would ha’ ben all right. I 


OLD TIM GRIGGS’ THEOLOGY 


23 


don’ perten’ ter know nuthin’ ’bout sech 
things. But it don’ look thet way ter me.” 

“And yet,” added the minister, wishing to 
end the conversation with a little good hu- 
mored joke, “and yet, if we didn’t want to lose 
the money, we should be a little careful about 
offering it to Mr. Griggs,” and he ventured a 
little laugh, as he lookt around at his parish- 
ioners. 

“Look ’e here, Mister,” and the old man 
raised his right hand and pointed a grimy fore- 
finger straight. into the face of the minister, 
who lookt timid and somewhat abasht before 
the riveted gaze of the gleaming eyes, “Old 
Tim kin laugh at a joke in its place ez well’s 
any one, but this ain’t no place fer a joke. 
W’en Old Tim tells ye he won’t take money 
he ain’t airnt, he won’t, an’ thet’s the end uv 
it. He don’ hoi’ hisself up ez no model to 
nobody. He does a good many thin’s ’at yer 
church wouldn’t ’prove uv, an’ he don’ say 
they’re right, nuther. He takes his dram an’ 
he swars when he pleases, tho he don’ do 
nuther often; an’, ol’s he is, his right han’ll 
still pertec’ his word an’ his honer; an’ w’en 
ye hint ’at 01’ Tim’ll take money he ain’t hon- 
es’ly airnt, I want ter tell ye, my frien’, ye’re 
treadin’ on dang’rus groun’. Listen! Fer 
I’m goin’ ter tell ye sumthin’, an’ it’s only one 


24 


HERBERT BROWN 


uv a good many sech experiences. It wus way 
back in the sixties. It wa’n’t ‘01’ Tim’ then, 
fer ’e wus young an’ quick an’ strong, both o’ 
eye an’ limb. The settlemint wus back ’bout 
fifty miles east o’ here. I wus lef’ ter look 
arter thin’s w’ile the res’ o’ the men went on a 
buf’lo hunt. Waal, one night a band o’ dev- 
lish Injuns sneakt up frum the river an’ mur- 
dered the wife an’ two growed up daughters 
o’ Pat Rouin, an’ stole his little five-yar-ol’ gal. 
The nex’ mornin’ w’en I went arly to thar 
home, I foun’ the woman an’ the two gals 
layin’ on the floor dead’ an’ thar scalps gone, 
an’ the little one missin’, fer I knowed ev’ry 
fam’ly then in sixty miles o’ thar an’ jest who 
b’longed to it. I rode back ter the settlemint 
whar the wimmin war, an’ tol’ them w’at had 
happened an’ showed ’em how ter pertec’ 
themselves — the wimmin in them times 
knowed how ter use guns — an’ I started on the 
trail uv them Injuns. I follered ’em four days 
’fore I got a chance ter git the chil’. D’ye see 
thet scar thar?” and he turned the side of his 
face, and pointed to a long deep scar down 
across the right cheek. “Waal, I got thet 
thar. Yes, sir; Tim Griggs jes’ dasht right 
into the midst o’ thet ban’ o’ painted devils, 
an’ caught thet little scairt gal right up onto 
his hoss, an’ hel’ her an’ the reins in his lef’ 


OLD TOM GRIGGS’ THEOLOGY 


25 


han’ an’ fought them Injuns back with his 
right. Yes, sir; a Injun done thet with his 
hatchet,” pointing to the scar, ‘‘an’ ef he'd a 
ben a inch closter no white man ever’d a 
knowed wat become o’ Tim Griggs. But I 
want ter tell ye ’at the answer Tim Griggs 
giv thet Injun never lef’ no scar, fer it never 
healed. I want ter tell ye right now, Mister, 
it wus a desp’rite fight, but I rode the bes’ 
hoss they wus on them plains in them days, 
an’ he jes’ seemed ter know somehow w’at 
wus up, an’ I want ter tell ye when Tim 
Griggs’ shootin’ irons commenced ter speak, 
an’ them Red-skins commenced ter bite the 
dust, they begun ter take the hint an’ ter fall 
back. W’en I got out o’ thet fight I hed three 
arrows a stickin’ in my flesh, an’ my hoss hed 
seven. An’, sir — would ye b’lieve it? — thet 
little gal jes’ turned right roun’ facin’ me as 
soon’s ever thet fight begun, an’ put ’er arms 
tight roun’ me an’ liel’ on jes’ like she knowed 
the very thin’ ter do, an’ she never got a sin- 
gle scratch. Say, Mister, I’ve thought a good 
many times that thar’s a Higher Power thet 
helps a feller at times like thet. Waal, w’en 
I reacht the settlemint the men ’ad jes’ got 
back, an’ war arrangin’ ter set out ter hunt 
fur me. An’ poor Pat Rouin, he war jes’ a 
takin’ on turrible, a cryin’ an’ a hollerin’, an’ 


26 


HERBERT BROWN 


they couldn’t none o’ ’em do nuthin’ with ’im. 
But I want ye ter understan’ right here he 
wus a man, ev’ry inch o’ ’im. But I tell ye, it 
war a tumble blow ter ’im. An’ w’en he seed 
me a cornin’ a carryin’ his little gal, thet pore 
feller come a runnin’ jes’ like a wil’ man, an’ 
w’en I handed the little gal down ter ’im, he 
jes’ hugged ’er an’ kist ’er, an’ then would hoi’ 
’er off at arms length an’ look at ’er the queer- 
es’, an’ then he’d hug her an’ kiss ’er agin. I 
know he kist ’er a hundred times, an’ then he 
jes’ put ’is arms roun’ me an’ kist me, an’ he 
jes’ took on thet way until I couldn’ help 
breakin’ down an’ cryin’ myself. An’ now, 
Mister, I come ter the part I want ter tell ye, 
an’ Ike thar,” pointing toward the proprietor 
of the store, “kin tell ye the same, fur ’is father 
wus one o’ thet comp’ny. Waal, w’at I wus 
goin’ ter tell ye is, the nex’ mornin’ they’d 
made up a purse fur me uv one hundred dol- 
lers, an’ Frank Brown — thet’s Ike’s father, an’ 
Herbert’s gran-father — he persented it ter me. 
He says, sez ’e, ‘Tim, here’s a little purse 
we’ve made up fur ye. It ain’t much, but we 
kinder wanted ter let ye know ’at we liked 
’at sort o’ doin’s. We’ve made it up amongst 
us,’ he sez, ‘an’ ev’ry one on us has give sum- 
thin’, an’ we want ye ter take it,’ he sez. Waal, 
Mister, I can’t tell ye jes’ how I felt, but I 


OLD TIM GRIGGS' THEOLOGY 


27 


tried ter tell ’im thet I couldn’t take it, an’ I 
seemed ter kinder choke, or sumthin’, an’ I 
couldn’t speak, an’ so I jes’ pusht it back an’ 
shook my head. Mebby it’d a bin all right to 
a tuk it, but I couldn’t a done it. No, sir, not 
fur a thousan’ dollers Tim Griggs wouldn’t a 
techt it. An’ then purty soon here come Pat, 
an’ he sez ter me, he sez, ‘Tim,’ he sez, ‘since 
my wife an’ the two gals is gone, it seems ’at 
the little gal’s all I’ve got in the worl’ ’at I 
keer anythin’ fur. I wouldn’t take all the 
worl’ fur ’er, an’ I’d a gin everythin’ I hed a 
thousan’ times fur ’er ef I could. Ye don’ 
know how much comp’ny she is fur me, Tim,’ 
he sez, ‘an’ at night w’en I git ter thinkin’ an’ 
a cryin’, thet little thin’ jes’ rolls right over 
agin me, an’ puts ’er little arms aroun’ me, 
an’ ye don’ know how kin’ o’ comfortin’ it is, 
an’ it seems ter kin’ o’ make my heart stop 
achin’, an’ I can kinder forgit an’ go off ter 
sleep. She’s worth more’n the worl’ ter me, 
Tim, an’ I’d give ye ev’ry thin’ I’ve got, Tim, 
ef ye’d take it, but I know ye wouldn’t do thet ; 
but I’m goin’ ter divide up with ye, Tim,’ he 
sez, ’cause ye hain’t got nuthin’ only yer hoss 
an’ saddle an’ yer guns, an’ now thar ain’t 
none o’ us only jes’ me an’ the little un, an’ I 
don’ need no more’n ye do. Ye kin ’ave half 
the cattle an’ half the hosses, an’ ye kin ’ave 


28 


HERBERT BROWN 


the east eighty, an I’ll keep the west eighty 
’at’s got the house on, fur the little gal’ll need 
a home, an’ ye’ll alius have a place ter stop 
with us. An’ now, Tim,’ he sez, sez ’e, T don’ 
want ye ter say no, fur seein’ w’at ye’ve done 
fur me, it’s a mighty little thin’ I’m a doin’ in 
return.’ An’ I sez, ‘No, Pat, I’m jes’ as much 
obleeged ez kin be,’ I sez, ‘but Tim Griggs 
don’ want nuthin’ fur doin’ jes’ his dooty.’ 
Mebby it’d a bin all right to a tuk it, but I 
want ter tell ye right here, Mister, ’at ef I’d a 
wanted sech truck ever so bad, I couldn’t a 
tuk it thar frum Pat Rouin, an’ ef I hed a tuk 
it I’d a ben ashamed ter a slept in the same 
bed wi’ myself arterwards. Course I kin see 
lots o’ difference ’tween me an’ the feller ^at 
preacht at the tent. I know it takes a lot o’ 
qualerferkashum, or whativer ye call it, ter 
preach an’ hoi’ meetin’s like thet, an’ ez thet 
wus his bis’ness it’d a bin all right fur ’im ter 
a tuk fifty er seventy-five dollers fur his two 
week’s work; but w’en it comes ter takin’ all 
a feller kin git jes’ ’cause the people ’r kinder 
feelin’ good an’ willin’ ter give — waal, it may 
be all right, but it don’ look thet way ter me. 
No, sir, Mister, 01’ Tim’s ben tried, an’ ye 
don’ need ter be a feered ter leave no money a 
layin’ roun’ ’at he ain’t hones’ly airnt, fur ’e 


OLD TIM GRIGGS’ THEOLOGY 


29 


ain’t a goin’ ter tech it. Tim Griggs don’ 
want nuthin’ he ain’t hones’ly airnt.” 

Just then the curfew began to strike seven, 
the time agreed upon among the merchants of 
Sandpre to close their places of business, and 
the tap-tap of Uncle Tim’s cane was heard, as 
he led the way to the door. 


CHAPTER III. 

LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS. 

“It were better for him that a millstone were hanged 
about his neck, and that he were cast into the sea, than 
that he should offend one of these little ones.” — Lu. 17:2. 

The scene to which we now introduce the 
reader is a familiar one, for it is the residence 
of Mr. Brown. It was early Monday morn- 
ing. A month had passed since the close of 
the meeting at the tent, but quite a number of 
the converts had not yet united with any 
church, and the efforts of the different denomi- 
nations to secure their membership had be- 
come more and more spirited, each goaded on 
by the consciousness that a rival church was 
doing its best to secure them. The conten- 
tions had in a few instances become even 
bitter, and there had been a number of ani- 
mated discussions, chief among them, one that 
had taken place between the pastors of the 
Methodist and the Presbyterian churches, a 
short time before the events recorded in the 
previous chapter. It occurred on the street, 
where they chanced to meet and engage in a 

30 


LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS 


31 


controversy, in which each accused the other 
and the other’s church of unfair means in 
proselyting. Quite a number had collected 
before the controversy ended, and it ended in 
a very abrupt and unbrotherly manner. 

“The clothes are not quite ready, Mrs. Ad- 
ams,” said Mrs. Brown, in response to a 
knock at her kitchen door; “but the girl will 
have them ready presently. Come in, and rest 
awhile. We overslept a little this morning. 
We had a business meeting last night after 
church, and did not get home until late. I 
notice you haven’t been to church the last two 
Sundays.” 

“No.” 

The speaker was a slender, frail looking, 
tho, in fact, wiry, little woman, about forty- 
five years old, thinly and very plainly clad, 
the slightly bent form indicating the toiler. 
Deep lines of care markt what was once un- 
doubtedly a face of more than ordinary 
beauty, and sorrow had left the print of his 
heavy hand upon the countenance — a coun- 
tenance that at a glance was a guaranty of 
purity of character and honesty and upright- 
ness of heart. 'Eighteen years ago, in her na- 
tive town in Kentucky, her husband, who was 
by trade a blacksmith, had been killed in a 
drunken brawl ; and she was left a widow with 


32 


HERBERT BROWN 


one child about four years of age, and with no 
property or means of support except the little 
shop. Following the advice of a friend, she 
had sold the shop and come west, and with the 
small amount she had left when she arrived 
here had built the little three-room house in 
which she and Jake had lived ever since. 

Mrs. Adams was one of that rare class of 
human beings that seems entirely to forget 
self in their interest for others; and since the 
death of her husband the only object of her 
life seemed to be her only child, and her only 
measure of sorrow or happiness was his hap- 
piness or suffering. Tho she workt hard and 
constantly, she was never known to complain 
of being tired or weary, and if she were too ill 
at any time to work her only regret seemed 
to be that she was not able to administer to 
his wants. 

“No,” she said, in reply to Mrs. Brown’s re- 
mark, “I couldn’t get Jake to go, and of course 
I wouldn’t go without him,” and her lip trem- 
bled slightly, as she spoke. “The first Sunday 
we missed he stayed at home with me all day, 
but yesterday he went up town in the after- 
noon, and I was so ’fraid” — she stopt sud- 
denly, and turned her face toward the window 
to hide the tears she felt coming. 


LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS 


33 


“I fear Jake is making a great mistake,” re- 
plied Mrs. Brown, “in not coming into the 
church. You would both feel so much better 
and so much more at home in the church, and 
Jake would be so much safer there where the 
church could look after him. I understand 
you are ready to come with him?” 

“O yes, I am ready to go with him to any 
church. Mrs. Brown, I am afraid — Jake — is 
losing — his religion — that he is going back,” 
and a thin calloused hand covered the eyes, 
and a sob shook the slender form. 

“I wish you and Jake would come into the 
Presbyterian church,” said Mrs. Brown, her 
voice and face showing the deep sympathy 
she felt for the little woman before her. “I 
am sure you would feel at home there. What 
excuse does Jake offer?” 

“You know we did talk of that at first, and 
I think if no one had talkt to Jake everything 
would have been all right; but so many have 
talkt to him, trying to get him to join first one 
church and then another, that it seems he 
has kind of turned against them all. They 
have said so much against all the churches 
that Jake says he won’t join any.” 

“Did any one say anything against the 
Presbyterian church ?” 

“O yes, I think more than any other.” 


34 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Who?” askt Mrs. Brown, her eyes spark- 
ling, for her church was next in her affections 
to her family. 

“Well, I think Rev. Merlin, the Methodist 
minister, said the most.” 

“And what did he say against the Presby- 
terian church?” 

“O, he said a good many things. I don’t 
remember them all ; but he said it wasn’t as 
spiritual as the Methodist, and that it held un- 
scriptural doctrines.” 

“And did he say what unscriptural doctrines 
it taught?” 

“Yes, he said the Presbyterian church 
taught that God created the most of the peo- 
ple with the intention of sending them to eter- 
nal torment, and that all who were lost were 
lost just because God willed it, and not be- 
cause of any fault of theirs, and no difference 
how much they tried or repented they couldn’t 
be saved; and he said that it taught that the 
most of the children that died in their infancy 
were lost.” 

“Why didn’t you ask our pastor about that? 
He could have made it all clear, I am sure.” 

“We did; or rather, Jake did; for the very 
next day Mr. Collins called on us, and when 
he mentioned our joining the church Jake told 
him what the Methodist minister had said.” 


LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS 


35 ' 


“And didn’t Brother Collins make it clear to 
you and Jake?” askt Mrs. Brown, with deep 
interest. 

“Well, he said it was a mistake about the 
Presbyterian church not being as spiritual as 
the Methodist, or any other church ; that some 
people mistook excitement or enthusiasm for 
spirituality ; but that no church had more real 
spirituality than had the Presbyterian.” 

“All of which I am sure is true, Mrs. Ad- 
ams; and did he explain the other, too?” 

“Well, probably he did; but Jake couldn’t 
understand it, and I didn’t either very well. 
He said that the Bible taught very clearly the 
doctrine of God’s eternal decree, sometimes 
called election or predestination; and that to 
deny it was to deny the Bible. Jake askt him 
if the Bible taught that God created most 
people just to send them to hell, and he said 
the Bible taught that the majority of mankind 
would be lost. Jake askt him if it taught that 
the children that died would go to hell; and 
he said it would be foolish to think that only 
the elect children died, and the bad ones lived. 
And Jake said to him, 'Does the Presbyterian 
church teach that, and that God takes pleasure 
in such as that?’ and he said, 'To deny this is 
to deny the Holy Scriptures and the power of 
God,’ or something like that. 'But,’ he said, 


36 


HERBERT BROWN 


‘these are not things for you to consider now. 
This is one of the deepest mysteries of godli- 
ness. After awhile, when you have studied 
the Scriptures carefully and considered these 
things thoroughly, you will find this no objec- 
tionable doctrine, but one of the most glorious 
and beautiful in the Scriptures.’ Jake didn’t 
say anything more to him, but after he had 
gone he said he wouldn’t join no church that 
taught such as that; and then he askt me if 
the Bible taught that, and I had to tell him I 
didn’t know, and he said he wisht he had askt 
the preacher to show him that in the Bible, 
and he said if the Bible taught that he didn’t 
want anything to do with such a book, for he 
didn’t believe it. You don’t know how bad I 
felt, for I wanted Jake to join the church so 
bad, and I just didn’t know what to do or 
what to say. He don’t talk religion any more 
and don’t seem to take no interest in such 
things, and he spends so much of his time like 
he used to up town. I’m so ’fraid some one 
will get him to go back into one of those ter- 
rible ‘joints/ and I know if he does, he just 
can’t resist the temptation, for you know he 
likely inherited his appetite. O, how I wish 
there were no such places to tempt him!” 

“Yes, I wish so, too,” replied Mrs. Brown, 
unwilling to abandon the previous subject, but 


LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS 


37 


unable to think of anything to say that would 
leave it in better light than her pastor had 
left it. 

“May be the crusade they started last Sat- 
urday will accomplish something.” 

“What crusade?” 

“Why, you know that Rev. Merlin and some 
of the women of the Methodist church went to 
each of the saloons last Saturday and held a 
short prayer and song service? I do hope 
they will keep it up until something is ac- 
complish. How I wish there were no ‘joints’ 
or saloons!” 

“Yes, I do, too,” replied Mrs. Brown, “but 
I don’t think they will accomplish anything.” 

“Why?” askt Mrs. Adams, in surprise. 

“Because I think it is just simply a move on 
the part of the Methodists to make it appear 
they are the only ‘temperance’ church in town. 
If they really wanted to do anything else, 
why didn’t they make up a union crusade from 
temperance people in all the churches?” 

“But couldn’t the others join in yet and 
help?” askt Mrs. Adams, in the deepest 
earnestness. 

“That is just what they want. That would 
leave the impression that the Methodist 
is the leading church, and if anything should 
be accomplisht they would get all the honor 


38 


HERBERT BROWN 


for having started it. That’s just what they 
want, and you may be sure the other churches 
are not going to do much while they lead.” 

“O, I see,” said Mrs. Adams, with a regret- 
ful expression, “I had not thought of it in 
that light before. But I do wish something 
could be done.” 

There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. 
Brown opened it to find there a young man 
about twenty-two years of age, clad in work- 
ing clothes. He was of medium height, rather 
fleshy, the face and eyes plainly indicating the 
hard drinker and debauchery, and yet withal 
a good-natured expression upon the counte- 
nance. 

“Will you come in, Jake?” askt Mrs. Brown, 
for it was no other than Jake Adams, with 
whom the reader is already somewhat ac- 
quainted, and whose life is to form an im- 
portant part of this narrative. 

“O, no, thanks; I just wanted to speak to 
ma.” 

At the sound of the familiar voice Mrs. 
Adams sprang quickly to her feet and stept 
excitedly to the door. 

“What is it, Jake?” 

“O, nuthin’, only I just wanted to tell you I 
won’t be home for dinner. Mr. Winnow wants 


LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS 


39 


me to go to the ranch to help brand cattle.” 

“You’ll be home for supper, will you?” 

“Yes, but it may be purty late,” he replied, 
as he started for the gate. 

Just then Herbert Brown came out of the 
parlor, where he had been reading until time 
to go to the store, and he bowed and spoke to 
Mrs. Adams as he past through the dining 
room. Jake had just closed the gate as Her- 
bert stept out, and seeing him coming, he un- 
latcht the gate he had just latcht. 

“Hello, Jake,” said Herbert. 

“Hello, Herbert,” replied the other, for 
they had been acquainted since they were 
children. 

“Going up town?” 

“No, I’m going over to Winnow’s. We’re 
going out to the ranch to brand cattle today.” 

The two walkt in silence for nearly a block. 
It was one of those embarrassing silences that 
so often occur when both minds are consider- 
ing the same thing, and each is con- 
scious of the subject of thought of the other. 
It was the first time the two had 
fallen into each other’s company since 
the close of the meeting, where they 
were converted. The one is hoping the 
matter will not be mentioned, and is trying 
to think of something to lead off conversation, 


40 


HERBERT BROWN 


while the other feels it his duty to mention 
the subject, and that it will be cowardly not to 
do it before their ways part. While he did not 
consider it his duty to go and see Jake about 
the matter, yet somehow now that he was 
thrown into his company he felt that he would 
be guilty should he let the opportunity pass 
without speaking, and he was casting in his 
mind how to introduce the subject. At last 
he said, boldly — 

“Jake, aren’t you going to join the church?” 

“Well, I did intend to join the church, Her- 
bert,” replied the other slowly and rather re- 
luctantly, “but I’ve about changed my mind. 
The churches ain’t what I thought they were.” 

“Don’t you think it would be easier for you 
to live right in the church, Jake,” askt Her- 
bert, after they had again walkt some distance 
in silence. 

“Well, I’ll tell you, Herbert. Your church 
teaches things I don’t believe. Some say 
they’re in the Bible, and some say they ain’t. 
Of course, I don’t know, for I never read the 
Bible before that meeting, and I hain’t read it 
much since. But if they’re in the Bible, then 
I don’t believe the Bible. It wasn’t no such 
preaching as that that converted me — if I was 
converted — and if they’d preached such stuff 
as that I’m sure I wouldn’t have believed it. 


LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS 


41 


Of course I don’t know much about such 
things, but I tell you, Herbert, it would be 
impossible for me to believe such stuff, or to 
love a God like that; and I’m not a going to 
join a church where I have to pretend to be- 
lieve something I don’t believe.” 

Herbert was surprised, if not startled, at 
the speech of his companion, and he could 
hardly realize that it was indeed Jake Adams 
that was talking to him. Nor did he fully un- 
derstand what his companion had said. 

“You misunderstand me, Jake. I did not 
mean the Presbyterian church. I had no par- 
ticular church in mind at all. I united with 
the Presbyterian church because my folks be- 
longed to it. I really do not know very much 
about it, and did not think much about it. 
No, Jake, I don’t care whether you join the 
Presbyterian church or some other. You join 
the church you want to.” 

“Herbert, you don’t know how much good 
it does me to hear you talk that way,” said 
Jake, with unmistakable emotion. “I expect 
there has been twenty-five different ones talk- 
ing to me about joining the church since I was 
converted — yes, there must have been twice 
that many — and you are the first one that I 
honestly believe cared one cent for anything 
except to get me into their own church ; and, 


42 


HERBERT BROWN 


Herbert, if you was in any church except the 
Presbyterian, and I ever joined any church, I 
believe I would go in with you.” 

“Why do you dislike the Presbyterian 
church so much, Jake?” 

“Well, when I come to think about it, I may 
be mistaken after all. The fact is, when the 
people from the different churches came to 
see us and found we were thinking of joining 
the Presbyterian church, they of course tried 
to turn us from it so we would join theirs. 
May be if I had said some other church I 
would have heard as much against it. You 
see, Mr. Jackson, the deacon of the Baptist 
church, told us that the Presbyterian church 
didn’t baptize, but just sprinkled water on the 
converts, and that the Bible commanded bap- 
tism, and that sprinkling wasn’t baptism, and 
he read a lot of scripture to us that did seem 
that way ; and he said that baptism was a com- 
mandment, and that no one could be a Chris- 
tian that didn't keep the commandments of 
God. And then the Methodist minister told 
us that the Presbyterian church was not spir- 
itual, and that the Methodist was the most 
spiritual of all churches ; but I didn’t pay much 
attention to that, for I hadn’t never noticed 
much difference among the churches here in 
that way. And then he told us that God made 


LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS 


43 


most of the people, and even little children 
that died while they were little, just to send 
them to hell, and that he took pleasure in that 
sort of doings; and I askt the Presbyterian 
minister the next day about it, and he just 
about the same as acknowledged it. That 
was the worst thing I heard about the Presby- 
terian church. I tell you, Herbert, if God 
does such things, I don’t see no use of trying 
to be good or do right. I don’t see no use of 
trying to stop keeping company with the fel- 
lows I’ve been running with. They’re a tough 
lot, and into all kinds of meanness, but I don’t 
believe there’s one of them that’s mean 
enough to do such things as them.” 

Again was Herbert startled by the remarks 
of his companion. He was made quickly con- 
scious that Jake was not his disciple, but his 
teacher. Tho Herbert Brown had often heard 
these doctrines mentioned, and had a sort of 
general idea of what they meant, yet he had 
never given them a serious thought, and had 
really never thought of considering whether 
they were in harmony with the teachings of 
the Bible or not. 

“Jake, the principle upon which you are 
acting is certainly right. No one ought ever 
join a church or any other organization whose 
principles or doctrines he does not believe and 


44 


HERBERT BROWN 


indorse. I must confess that I have never 
thought much about these things. I don’t 
know much about the church I have joined ex- 
cept that my folks belong to it. But I cannot 
help believing, Jake, that you have been mis- 
informed, or that you do not clearly under- 
stand these things. At least, I hope so,” said 
Herbert, as they reacht the place where their 
ways parted. 


CHAPTER IV. 

UNDECIDED. 

“In vain they do worship me, teaching for doctrines 
the commandments of men.” — Mat. 15:9. 

“Well, Theora, where shall we go to church 
this evening?” askt Herbert Brown. 

“O, we’ll go to your church this evening, 
Herbert.” 

Theora Winnow was sitting at the piano in 
her father’s parlor, where she had just finisht 
playing an accompaniment to a song they 
were singing. He was standing at her side, 
his elbow resting on the piano, looking down 
into the upturned face. He probably did not 
hear the answer at all; for all unconsciously 
Theora had assumed a most graceful and at- 
tractive position. Herbert thought, as he 
lookt at her, that she was even more beautiful 
than she had ever seemed before. He was 
feasting his eyes upon the pretty face looking 
up at him, the full, red, ripe, slightly parted 
lips, the large, deep blue eyes, mellow with 

love, the ivory brow. She blusht slightly un- 
45 


46 


HERBERT BROWN 


der the riveted enraptured gaze of her lover; 
and rising said : 

“Come, Herbert, you don’t have to stand 
up, we have chairs. Take that one,” and plac- 
ing her hand on his arm she indicated by a 
little push the upholstered arm-chair she 
wisht him to occupy. He somewhat reluct- 
antly obeyed, and she seated herself in an- 
other opposite. 

Just then he remembered the question he 
had askt, and dimly remembered that she had 
answered, but for the life of him he could not 
remember a word of her answer. 

“What did you say, Theora?” he askt. 

“Say about what, Herbert.” 

“Why, about where we should attend 
church this evening.” 

“Why, Herbert, how important you must 
have considered my answer to have forgotten 
it so soon!” she said, laughing. 

“Really, Theora, I did not hear a word you 
said. I was thinking of you,” he said, smiling 
with an expression on his face of intermingled 
teasing and adoration. “What did you say?” 

“I said we’d go to your church,” she an- 
swered, her cheek coloring under the com- 
pliment paid her. 

“What are we going to do about this church 
business finally, Theora? You remember this 


UNDECIDED 


47 


is the day we had set for settling it, do you?” 

“Yes, I remember.” 

“Do you think you can talk about it now 
without crying,” askt Herbert, joking. 

“Yes, I guess so,” replied the other, smil- 
ing, “but we must not talk too loud, Herbert, 
for mamma you know is just in the other room 
reading.” 

“Oh ! Thanks,” said Herbert, laughing, and 
moving his chair over closer to Theora. 

“O, you stupid fellow,” said Theora, laugh- 
ing a hearty, merry laugh. 

“Well, now, Theora, what do you think 
about it?” he said, becoming serious. “You 
know we said we should settle it today once 
for all, and never bother over it again. And 
if we do that we should settle it in such a 
way that neither of us will regret it later.” 

“If it were not for papa and mamma, Her- 
bert, it would be easy for me to dispose of 
this matter; for I should leave it entirely to 
you ; and I think I shall anyway. Since the 
odds are even on both sides, I think it only 
fair that you should decide it.” 

“No, no, Theora, that would not do. I ' 
should rather leave things as they are, and 
yet judging from observation I do not just like 
the prospect,” he said, smiling. “You know 
Jim Dawson and Mattie Leach belonged to 


48 


HERBERT BROWN 


different churches when they were married, 
and they parted within less than two years, 
and gossip says that was at the bottom of 
their troubles. And then the Marquis fam- 
ily " 

Yes, they both remembered all about the 
Marquis family. The mother belonged to the 
Baptist and the father to the Methodist 
church. Each attended his or her own church 
services. Three of their children had been 
converted at the recent meeting, and after 
some delay two had joined the Baptist church 
with their mother; and the other had not yet 
joined any — she, the eldest daughter, gener- 
ally went with her father to the Methodist 
church, and it was now generally understood 
that she would unite with that church. The 
discussions, and even quarrels, that had taken 
place in this family, especially since the meet- 
ing, when each parent was desirous of leading 
the children aright according to his or her best 
judgment, were no secret; and so we are be- 
traying no trust in mentioning them here. 
Theora remembered too that just yesterday 
she had heard her father say that he should 
not be surprised if they would separate; and 
he thought it would be better if they should. 
They had never got along very well ; but since 


UNDECIDED 


49 


the meeting their domestic troubles had be- 
come more public. 

“O Herbert, I know we wouldn’t do that 
way,” said Theora, placing her hand upon his 
arm, and looking almost pleadingly into his 
face. 

Herbert Brown leaned back in his chair and 
laught a hearty, ringing laugh ; it was almost 
cruel, tho not intentional, for he had only 
heard the words, and their pretty innocent 
earnestness had amused him. He had not 
read the pleading expression that had accom- 
panied them ; and his merriment ended as sud- 
denly as it began, as he lookt into the face 
still turned toward him, with an expression 
half smiling, half pleading, and colored slight- 
ly with a blush, provokt by the unexpected 
burst of merriment. 

“May be after awhile we’ll be glad for so 
good an excuse to get away from each other’s 
company for an occasional spell anyway,” he 
said, with that same cruel mischievous ex- 
pression on his face. 

“No, Herbert, it shall not be that way. I 
will go with you to the church of your choice.” 

“No, Theora,” he answered, seriously and 
thoughtfully, “that would not be fair. You 
have the same right in this matter that I have. 
It would not be right, even if you should con- 


50 


HERBERT BROWN 


sent, for me to decide such a question for 
you/’ 

“O yes, it would be right, Herbert,” she 
said, with a decisiveness in her tone that at- 
tracted his greater attention. 

“How do you know it, Theora?” 

“Why, Herbert,” she said, her face lighting 
up with the expression of one who has made 
some pleasant discovery or unraveled some 
difficult puzzle, “you know that what at first 
troubled me most was the question of what I 
ought to do — whether I should endeavor to 
please mamma and papa or you in this mat- 
ter.” 

“Yes, I guessed that was the question,” said 
Herbert, looking at her with a decidedly inter- 
ested, inquisitive, half-playful expression; for 
he knew from her attitude that she thought 
she had made an important discovery, and 
though he did not think she had any magic 
solution for the aggravating problem before 
them, yet he was deeply curious to know what 
she had to say. 

“Well,” she continued, “I have found the 
answer to that question.” 

“You have?” he askt, still more curious. 

“Yes, Herbert, I have,” she replied. “You 
see the other night I was reading the Bible; 
and I don’t know how it happened, but I was 


UNDECIDED 


51 


thinking of that very thing, and all at once I 
read the very answer to my question, and 
when I read it it just seemed to me that some 
one had spoken right out and answered the 
question. I markt the place, Herbert, and 
I’ll show it to you,” she said, rising and going 
to the center-table for her Bible. 

Herbert Brown was indeed puzzled. He 
knew she was not joking, for this was too se- 
rious a matter with her. Neither could it be 
fancy, for he knew too well her sound judg- 
ment and sterling qualities. He had never 
dreamed of going to the Bible for an answer 
to the puzzling’ question ; nor did he at all be- 
lieve that she had found one; and he watcht 
her every movement with an expression like 
that of one watching for the curtain to rise 
at some celebrated play. 

“Here it is, Herbert,” she said, opening the 
book where she had the mark, at the fifth 
chapter of Ephesians. She had markt the 22d, 
the 23d and the 24th verses. She handed him 
the open Bible, pointing to the markt verses. 
He read them carefully, a smile playing about 
his mouth. 

“But how about the next verse, Theora? 
Do you think that a man who really loves his 
wife would require her to ‘submit' to his own 


52 


HERBERT BROWN 


opinion in a matter in which she is as compe- 
tent to decide correctly as he?” 

“It says ‘in everything’, Herbert.” 

“Well, I guess it didn’t mean that a woman 
was to join the Presbyterian or the Methodist 
church just because her husband happened to 
belong there.” 

“Why not, Herbert?” 

“One reason is, that there was no Metho- 
dist or Presbyterian church then.” 

“There wasn’t?” askt Theora, with a look 
of surprise. 

“Why, no,” answered Herbert, “and not for 
hundreds of years afterward — I don’t know 
just how long.” 

“What churches were there then?” 

“I don’t know that there were any 
churches — I think there was just a church.” 

“What church was it, Herbert?” 

“I don’t know, Theora, any more about that 
than you do. I never read church history. 
But I know that there are no such names in 
the Bible as those that the different churches 
have now; and I know that everything in the 
Bible sounds like there was only one church.” 

“Why, of course that’s true, Herbert; but 
I had never thought of it before. But do you 
suppose they all — the Methodists and Presby- 


UNDECIDED 


53 


terians and Baptists — all belonged to one 
church ?” 

“I don’t suppose there were any Metho- 
dists or Presbyterians or Baptists then.” 

“Well, no; I reckon not; but what I mean 
is, do you suppose that those who held these 
different ideas and beliefs were all in one 
church then?” 

“I don’t know whether they held such ideas 
and beliefs then; but if they did they must 
have been in the one church, if they were in 
any.” 

“What do you suppose was their Discipline, 
or Articles of Religion? Was it Methodist or 
Presbyterian, or what?” 

“I don’t know; but it wasn’t any of them.” 

“How do you know it, Herbert?” 

“Because they were made a long time after- 
ward.” 

“Does any one know what the articles of 
religion of the first church were?” 

“Well, I don’t know, Theora, but I think it 
was just the Bible.” 

“Why wouldn’t that be all right now,” 
askt Theora, with deep interest. 

“I don’t know, Theora; you question me 
like you thought I was a theologian. I don’t 
know any more about these things than you 
do, and may be not so much ; but I have made 


54 


HERBERT BROWN 


up my mind to know more about them. I was 
walking down the street the other day with 
Jake Adams, and I find he has been investi- 
gating along these lines more than I have. 
He told me some things about my own church 
that I did not know, and hope are not true. 
This thing of joining churches just because 
you happen to like the preacher, or the people 
that belong to it, or because it is the most 
popular, or because your folks happen to be- 
long to it, or any other such reason, is, I think, 
all wrong; and yet I believe that is the way a 
great many do, and may be most of them. 
I blame the churches and the pastors largely 
for it, too. They have no right to ask people 
to join any church, without making clear its 
teachings and doctrines.” 

“But how are you going to find out what 
church is right, Herbert ?” 

“Well, I am now reading the Constitution 
of my own church. I confess that is a good 
deal like signing a note, and then looking to 
see what it is afterward; but really I never 
thought much about this matter until my talk 
with Jake.” 

“What church is Jake going to join?” 

“He says he isn’t going to join any.” 

“Why?” askt Theora. 

“He doesn’t believe their doctrines.” 


UNDECIDED 


55 


“O well, but he could live a Christian life 
in the church anyway. I know a great many 
do. He doesn’t have to pay any attention to 
that.” 

“No, Theora; that is wrong. That would 
be like a liquor sympathizer or dealer joining 
a temperance society, or a horse thief joining 
a law and order league, or an infidel preaching 
the gospel. When one joins a church he says 
by that act that he believes and accepts the 
creed of that church; and if he doesn’t believe 
it, he ought not to join the church. And then, 
anyway, what could be the use of the creeds 
of the churches, if their members do not be- 
lieve them?” 

“I had never thought of it that way before, 
Herbert; but I think you are right — I know 
you are right. But, Herbert, what if you find 
that you do not believe your church’s doc- 
trines?” 

“I shall withdraw from it. What else could 
I do and be honest? I wish I had never joined 
the church until I had investigated, and known 
what I was doing.” 

“But what if you should not find any 
church whose doctrines you believe, Her- 
bert?” 

“Well,” he answered slowly and thought- 
fully, “I had hardly thought of that, but J 


56 


HERBERT BROWN 


realize that such a thing could be possible. 
In that case I think I should not unite with 
any. I believe one can live a Christian out- 
side of any church, tho I realize it would be 
much better and easier in it.” 

“You said you were reading your church 
Discipline, Herbert. Have you found any- 
thing in it yet that you don't believe?” 

“You mean the Constitution, Theora — 
that's its proper name. Well, I can hardly 
answer your question yet. I don’t intend to 
deny anything until I have informed myself as 
fully as possible; but I have markt several 
things in it to look up, and I am going to ask 
our pastor to explain them to me. Have you 
read any in your Constitution?” 

“Ours isn't called a Constitution ; it’s a Dis- 
cipline. Yes, last Sunday evening after you 
had gone I read some in it.” 

“How do you find it?” 

“O, I don’t know. Part of it is clear enough, 
and a part of it I don’t understand.” 

“Where is it?” 

“Just in the other room. Shall I get it?” 

“Yes, get it; and let’s see how it compares 
with the Presbyterian.” 

Theora brought the Methodist Discipline 
and handed it to him, unopened. 

“Oh! Is that it?” he said, as he opened the 


UNDECIDED 


57 


little book. “It isn’t half as large as ours.” 
After a moment’s silent reading he added, 
“The first chapter reads just about like ours. 
I believe it is the very same thing,” he contin- 
ued, scanning it more closely. “Now, Theora, 
let me see whether you are a Methodist,” he 
said, smiling mischievously; and he read from 
the book: 

“ ‘There is but one living and true God, everlasting, 
without body or parts, of infinite power, wisdom and good- 
ness; the maker and preserver of all things, visible and 
invisible/ 

“That’s to the first period. Do you believe 
that?” 

“Yes, I think so. I believe there is only 
one God, and I believe He is eternal, and I do 
not think He has a body, for He is a Spirit. I 
do not know whether He has parts or not,” 
she said thoughtfully, “and I think He is in- 
finite and that He created all things. I think 
the Bible teaches all that, and I believe it.” 

“So do I,” responded Herbert. “Now let 
me read to the next period : 

‘“And in unity of this Godhead, there are three per- 
sons, of one substance, power and eternity — the Father, 
the Son, and the Holy Ghost/ 

“Do you believe that?” 

“I don’t know what that means, Herbert. 
When I read it alone last Sunday evening, I 
wisht there were some one here to explain it 


58 


HERBERT BROWN 


to me. It seems to me that word ‘Godhead’ 
is in the Bible, isn’t it? But I don’t know 
what it means.” 

“Yes, I hunted it up in our concordance,” 
he answered, “and found it in the old version 
three times, and in the revised version only 
twice, and one of them was translated in the 
margin something else. But I don’t know 
what it means, either.” 

“I never thought of calling God and the 
Holy Ghost ‘persons,’ ” said Theora, “but I 
suppose they are ; and I can’t understand how 
the Father and the Son are of one eternity. 
Doesn’t that mean the same age?” 

“I don’t know anything about it; in fact, it 
all sounds odd to me and unlike the Bible, but 
I know so little about the Bible that I am go : 
ing to withhold judgment until I have a chance 
to learn. I never had the least idea that God 
and Christ were the same in either power or 
eternity until I read it in our Constitution, and 
as to their substance I don’t remember ever 
reading anything about that in the Bible, and 
I couldn’t find it in the concordance.” 

“O Herbert,” suddenly broke in Theora, 
looking out the window toward the gate, 
“there is Rev. Merlin, our pastor, and he’s 
coming in. Let’s ask him about these things.” 


UNDECIDED 


59 


“All right,” said Herbert, glad of the op- 
portunity. 

“Come, let’s go into the front room and 
meet him,” and she led the way. 

The minister shook hands with all, they ex- 
changed greetings and were seated. Rev. 
Merlin was a very large man, weighing over 
two hundred pounds, quite portly, and lookt 
like one that had a good appetite, and en- 
joyed life and good health. He was well 
drest, and spoke with the manner of conscious 
authority. Theora took advantage of the first 
lull in the conversation between the minister 
and her mother to break in with : 

“Brother Merlin, we have some questions 
we want to ask you.” 

“All right ; out with them.” 

“Well, it isn’t exactly questions either, 
Brother Merlin ; it’s explanation we want. We 
don’t understand this Discipline, and we want 
you to explain it to us.” 

“That’s a part of my business, and I assure 
you one of the most pleasant parts, too,” he 
said, glancing at Herbert, who he knew be- 
longed to another church. “What is it you 
want light on, my dears?” 

“The last part of this first paragraph,” said 
Theora, handing him the Discipline. 


60 


HERBERT BROWN 


The minister glanced over the clause in 
question. 

“Why, yes; that’s the doctrine of the Holy 
Trinity, one of the grandest, most beautiful 
and most important in Holy Writ.” 

“What does ‘Godhead’ mean, Brother Mer- 
lin?” 

“Why, that is only another term for Trin- 
ity, and it means the unity of the three divine 
persons, — the Father, the Son and the Holy 
Ghost.” 

“That’s what we don’t understand. Why 
are they called ’persons’?” 

“The principal reason is because they are 
persons,” answered the minister, with con- 
scious wit. “The Scripture teaches this very 
clearly.” 

“Does the Bible say that they are persons, 
Brother Merlin?” 

“I do not remember that it says it in just 
so many words, but it represents each of them 
as possessing the attributes of persons, which 
is the same thing.” 

“Then it says they are of one — one — I for- 
get just how it reads.” 

“ ‘Of one substance, power and eternity,’ ” 
added the minister. 

“Yes, that is it. What does that mean?” 

“Why, that means that they are all three 


UNDECIDED 


61 


equal in substance, in power and in eternity, — 
God the Father, God the Son and God the 
Holy Ghost.” 

“Is that in the Bible, Brother Merlin? Are 
you quoting from the Bible?” 

“O no, I am quoting from the old form of 
the creed; but it is just as true as the Bible, 
for it is taken from it.” 

“Is Christ God,” askt Theora, leaning for- 
ward with interest. 

“He is the Very and eternal God.’ ” 

“But doesn’t He talk to God and pray to 
him, Brother Merlin?” 

“Why, certainly.” 

“Well,” said Theora, looking puzzled, “is 
that a different God?” 

“Why, no, my dear; there is but one God,” 
he replied, with a little laugh. 

“Then was God crucified?” she askt after 
a moment’s thoughtful silence. 

“God the Son was crucified,” answered the 
minister readily. 

“Well, Brother Merlin, was there any God 
that was not crucified?” 

“God the Father and God the Holy Ghost 
were not crucified.” 

“Then are there three Gods, Brother Mer- 
lin,” she askt, still more puzzled. 

“O no, there is but one God. These three 


62 


HERBERT BROWN 


persons are one God, the Holy Trinity, my 
dear,” he answered, with the slightest hint at 
impatience in his voice. 

“I don’t understand it at all,” said Theora, 
with a childish look of impatience on her face. 

“You must not expect to understand all the 
deep things of God at a glance, my dear. Did 
you get all the sciences that way when you 
went to school? Did they not seem dark to 
you sometimes, and afterward, when you had 
studied them more carefully, become clear? 
It is written: ‘Great is the mystery of godli- 
ness/ and this is one of its greatest mysteries, 
and you must not expect to accomplish in a 
few minutes what it has required time for the 
most learned to do.” 

During this entire conversation Herbert had 
watcht the minister closely, and followed his 
answers carefully; and now that the conver- 
sation had stopt, he said : 

“Rev. Merlin, the word ‘Trinity’ does not 
occur in the Bible at all, does it?” 

“The word does not, but the doctrine does,” 
replied the minister, with a little emphasis. 

“I understood you to say that the word 
‘Trinity’ means the same as Godhead?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then why not use it instead, since it is 
found in the Bible, and the other is not?” 


UNDECIDED 


63 


“Because ‘Trinity’ is a more significant and 
a better term.” 

“If these creeds are all taken from the Bi- 
ble and are so plainly taught in the Bible, as 
you say, and the Bible is inspired (as I have 
been taught to believe), and these books” — 
pointing to the little book in the minister’s 
hand — “are only the works of men, I do not 
understand why we need them at all.” 

“They are absolutely necessary, young man, 
to the unity and soundness of doctrine of the 
church. They are our safeguard against 
heresy and imposition. And I would inform 
you that your own church has a longer creed 
than has the Methodist, and this doctrine of 
the Trinity is a part of it,” replied the minis- 
ter, a little sharply. 

“I am very well aware of that, Rev. Mer- 
lin,” answered the young man, coloring slight- 
ly, but in no other way indicating feeling, 
“and I assure you that I am not trying to de- 
fend the doctrines of my church or in any way 
to question those of any other church. I am 
simply asking for information. If, as you say, 
these things are all clearly taught in the Bi- 
ble, it seems to me that ought to be sufficient; 
and if they are but dimly taught there, then 
it seems to me that all ought to have the right 


64 


HERBERT BROWN 


to their opinions, or to the results of their 
own investigations.” 

“When you have made a more thorough 
study of the Scriptures you will better under- 
stand the necessity for these things. A church 
built after the plan you suggest would be full 
of schism, contention and heresy.” 

“I do not understand how these creeds are 
safeguards against heresy, etc., when the dif- 
ferent churches have different creeds, and of- 
ten contradictory ones; unless we are to un- 
derstand that there is some particular church 
that has no heresy or contention in it, and 
that all the members of the others are here- 
tics.” 

“One error is no excuse for others,” an- 
swered the minister, shortly; “and you will 
better understand this when you are better 
acquainted with the teachings of the Bible and 
the mission of the church.” 

“Brother Merlin,” broke in Theora, “do all 
the churches hold the doctrine of the Trin- 
ity?” 

“Yes; that is, all the orthodox churches.” 

“What are orthodox churches,” askt Her- 
bert. 

“Orthodox means sound in doctrine,” re- 


UNDECIDED . 


65 


plied the minister, and glancing at the clock, 
he rose quickly, saying: 

“Well, well, you will have to excuse me. I 
have stayed over my time already,” and bid- 
ding them good evening he walkt hurriedly 
away. 


CHAPTER V. 

AN EARLY MORNING VISIT. 

“The ways of Zion do mourn. ... All her gates 
are desolate : her priests sigh, her virgins are afflicted, and 
she is in bitterness.” — Lam. 1 14. 

It was the next morning after the events re- 
lated in the last chapter, and the Winnow fam- 
ily had had breakfast a little earlier than 
usual, as Mr. Winnow would drive to his 
ranch to oversee some work being done there. 
The meal had been eaten in almost total si- 
lence. The evening before, after they had re- 
turned from church, and Theora had gone to 
her room, Mr. and Mrs. Winnow had sat for 
a long time, engaged in conversation started 
from a discussion of their pastor’s visit and 
the events that had taken place in connection 
with it. Theora was their only child; that is, 
the only one living; and they were justly very 
proud and very fond of her. They had buried 
three children in the cemetery near their old 
home in the eastern part of the state; two 
having died in infancy, one, a bright boy, 
having died of diphtheria at the age of eight. 


AN EARLY MORNING VISIT 


67 


Mr. Winnow had gone to the barn for his 
team. Mrs. Winnow and Theora were clear- 
ing the breakfast table. An embarrassing si- 
lence prevailed, quite contrary to the usual 
cheerful conversation that accompanied their 
house-work. It had been decided in their con- 
versation last night that Mrs. Winnow should 
take advantage of the first good opportunity to 
talk with their daughter of the matter they 
were sure was troubling her. They felt cer- 
tain that Theora had troubles that she had not 
confided to them, for her mother had on one 
occasion found her in her room crying, and a 
number of times her flushed face and swollen 
eyes had revealed the secret. After a pro- 
longed embarrassing silence, Mrs. Winnow, 
with considerable effort, spoke. 

“Theora, what will you and Herbert do 
about your churches ?” 

“I don't know, mamma,” answered Theora, 
blushing deeply — she knew not why, for there 
was really no one in all the world in whom 
she would have so readily confided or to 
whom she would have more willingly intrusted 
her secrets. “I really don't know. I have 
wanted to talk to you or papa or some one 
about it for some time, but I didn’t — I didn't 
— O, I don’t know, mamma — I just couldn’t.” 

“And I have wanted to talk with you, The- 


68 


HERBERT BROWN 


ora. I knew you were troubled about some- 
thing, and I suspected what it was. I knew 
it was my duty to speak to you, but I hesi- 
tated to mention the matter to you. I fear 
I have not done my duty toward my child,” 
said Mrs. Winnow, a tear glistening in her 
eye. 

“O no, mamma, it wasn't your fault. You 
couldn't help it?” she said, and seeing the tear 
in her mother’s eye, stept over quickly to her 
side, and placing her hand upon her mother’s 
left cheek, imprinted a kiss on the right. “No, 
no, mamma, it wasn’t any fault of yours,” she 
repeated, the tears dimming her own eyes. 

“Come, Theora,” said her mother, “the ta- 
ble is cleared now. Let us go into the front 
room, and talk the matter over.” 

“Now, Theora,” she continued after they 
were seated, “tell me all. I am sure you do 
not need keep anything back. I guest from 
the questions you askt Brother Merlin yester- 
day that you and Herbert had been discussing 
the matter.” 

“Yes, we have talkt about it, but the more 
we talk about it the harder it seems to settle 
it. And I don’t want to leave it the way it is.” 

“How do you mean, Theora?” 

“Why, for one of us to belong to one 
church and one to another. I don’t think that 


AN EARLY MORNING VISIT 


69 


would look right, nor be right, either. Do 
you ?” 

“No,” replied the mother, after a moment’s 
thought, “not if it could be avoided.” 

“That is exactly the question, mamma. 
How can it be avoided?” 

“I do not know. Does Herbert have any 
objections to the Methodist church? Have 
you askt him to come into your church?” 

“Why, no, mamma; it wouldn’t seem right 
to me to do that. You know we were con- 
verted at the same meeting and joined the 
churches at about the same time. And then 
I know he doesn’t like all the doctrines of the 
Methodist church anyway.” 

“Has Herbert askt you to join his church?” 

“No, he has never done that.” 

“Have neither of you made any proposition 
for settling the question, Theora?” 

“I offered to leave the matter entirely to 
him ; but he said he would not decide it for 
me, that I had the same right to my opinion 
that he had to his, and that it would not be 
right for him to decide even if I were willing.” 

“Does Herbert seem to hold strongly to the 
Presbyterian church?” 

“Really I don’t believe he likes either of the 
churches; or for that matter, any of them.” 

“I suspected as much from the questions he 


70 


HERBERT BROWN 


askt Brother Merlin yesterday. But what 
will he do if he does not like any of them ? He 
will have to join some church, or remain out- 
side, and that would never do. He must not 
expect to find everything just as he wants it, 
even in the church. 1 ” 

“But, mamma, Herbert is not the only one. 
You know there are quite a number of the 
converts that have not united with any church ; 
and I was talking with Mary Rule yesterday 
after the Endeavor, and she said their folks 
had decided not to join any of the churches, 
that her father had borrowed and read the 
creeds of two or three of the churches here, 
and that he didn’t like them, and that they 
were disgusted with the way the churches 
were doing anyway.” 

Mr. Rule was the president of the First 
National Bank of Sandpre, and he and his 
wife and five of their children, one a married 
daughter, were converted during the meeting. 

“But I think they are making a mistake, 
and may see it later,” said Mrs. Winnow. 

“Herbert says one ought not to join any 
church whose doctrines he does not believe; 
and I think he is certainly right, is he not, 
mamma?” 

“I had never thought much about that, The- 
ora, but I am sure you and Herbert could both 


AN EARLY MORNING VISIT 


71 


live Christian lives in the Methodist church, 
as thousands of others have done/’ 

“But if he doesn’t believe its doctrines, 
would it be right for him to join the church, 
and would he be allowed to do it?” askt The- 
ora, with deep interest. 

“I am not prepared to answer that ques- 
tion, Theora,” answered Mrs. Winnow, after 
a moment’s thought, “but surely every Chris- 
tian ought -to find a home in the church.” 

“But, mamma, Herbert says there was a 
time when all Christians were in one church ; 
before they had these Disciplines and Consti- 
tutions — nothing but the Bible.” 

“I do not know about that. Probably 
there was.” 

“Why wouldn’t that be better now?” 

“You remember, Theora, that Brother 
Merlin explained that yesterday. If people of 
all those different beliefs and faiths were in 
one church there would be no end to quarrels, 
disputes and contentions. Is not that what 
he said?” 

“I think that is what he said, but I think 
Herbert was nearer right than was Brother 
Merlin, mamma.” 

“Theora,” said Mrs. Winnow, in a tone of 
gentle admonition, “I want you to respect 
Herbert; that's all right. But you must not 


72 


HERBERT BROWN 


put his opinion, in matters like these, above 
that of your pastor. Rev. Merlin has made a 
careful lifetime study of these matters, while 
Herbert knows but little of such things.” 

“But, mamma, during that meeting the 
members of all the churches workt together, 
and why wasn’t it just as important to keep 
heresy and contention, etc., out of that meet- 
ing as it is to keep them out of the church?” 

“O, you know, Theora, that was not really 
a church. That was just a revival, in which 
the Christians of all denominations met and 
workt together for the conversion of the un- 
saved.” 

“Well, isn’t that what the church is for, 
mamma?” 

“Not altogether, Theora; its mission is also 
to look after and care for them after they have 
made the start in the Christian life.” 

“Well, why couldn’t they do that all the v 
better if all the Christians were in one church, 
like they were in that meeting?” 

“Brother Merlin answered that question, 
Theora; don’t you remember?” 

“But, mamma,” answered Theora, with the 
slightest hint at impatience in her tone, “there 
was certainly no quarreling or contention dur- 
ing that meeting. It all came afterward, 
when the different churches tried to get the 


AN EARLY MORNING VISIT 


73 


converts ; and there would have been no such 
occasion for all that trouble if there had been 
only the one church.” 

“If this were best, Theora, our ministers 
and elders and bishops would advise such a 
course. They are much better prepared to 
decide such questions than we are, and I am 
willing that they should do it.” 

“But, mamma, that doesn’t settle the mat- 
ter we were going to talk about. What ought 
I to do? Shall I go with Herbert to his 
church, or remain in another?” 

“I am not ready to advise you,” answered 
Mrs. Winnow, after a short.silence. “May be 
some way will be opened up yet. I cannot 
bear the thought of your going away from the 
church of your father and your mother, where 
you have been raised,” and the mother’s face 
became serious, even sad, as she cast a loving, 
longing glance at her daughter. 

This was the first opportunity Theora had 
had of laying bare her entire thoughts and 
feelings in this matter to one in whom she 
could fully trust; and now as she realized her 
mother’s affectionate desire to help her, and 
at the same time her utter inability to do so, 
Theora’s face flusht, her eyes filled with tears, 
and she laid her head on the table before her 
and wept, almost aloud. 


74 


HERBERT BROWN 


Mrs. Winnow’s eyes too were moist, as she 
walkt over beside her daughter and put her 
arm around her, saying: 

“Theora, this will not help it any, dear; 
come, cheer up ; and we will talk it over again 
when your father is here.” But Theora wept 
only the more; and well she might, for tears 
are nature’s merciful agents of relief for the 
pent-up sorrows of the human soul. 


CHAPTER VI. 

AN EVENING VISIT OF THE SAME DAY. 


“Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind.” — 
Rom. 14:5. 

Mr. Brown’s family was seated around the 
supper table. Mr. Brown and Herbert were 
not going back to the store after supper, as 
there was no extra work to be done, and the 
head clerk could look after the business and 
close the store at eight o’clock. 

“Jake was about drunk today,” said Mr. 
Brown, looking across the table at his son. 

“Yes, I think so,” answered Herbert, sadly. 

“What! Jake Adams! Was he drinking?” 
asked Mrs. Brown, in surprise. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Brown, “he had about all 
he could carry.” 

“Poor Sarah !” exclaimed Mrs. Brown, “the 
news will almost break her heart! Father, 
can’t those ‘joints’ be stopt?” she added, ad- 
dressing her husband. 

“Not while public sentiment favors them,” 
replied her husband. 

Mr. Brown was a member of the city coun- 
75 


76 


HERBERT BROWN 


cil. The mayor and three of the five council- 
men were church members, and by no means 
favored the use of liquor as a beverage. The 
state had the best and strongest prohibitory 
liquor law in America. And yet it was gener- 
ally conceded that where public sentiment fa- 
vored the violation of the law it was folly to 
try to enforce it. And so the three “jointists” 
regularly once a month went thru the form of 
being arrested, pleading “guilty” and paying 
each a fine of $50 into the city treasury to help 
defray the expenses of the city; and upon the 
payment of this “license” had the implied war- 
ranty of immunity from further molestation 
by the authorities. 

“It doesn’t seem that the Methodist cru- 
sade is effecting much,” added Mr. Brown, 
after a short silence. 

“I don’t see how it could,” said Herbert. 

“Why, Herbert?” askt his mother, with a 
look more of curiosity than surprise. 

“Well, in the first place, I don’t think that 
is the way to go about it; and in the second 
place, I don’t think those managing the cru- 
sade expect to accomplish anything; at least, 
not so much as they pretend.” 

“Why do you think that, Herbert?” 

“Last Saturday Rev. Merlin prayed in each 
of the ‘joints’ for the Lord to speedily put an 


AN EVENING VISIT 


77 


end to the liquor traffic; and the roughs and 
toughs on the street have been laughing about 
it ever since, and saying that if the Lord 
should answer his prayer he would be the 
worst surprised man in town — and I believe 
it.” 

“But it is all right to pray for such things, 
Herbert. I do not think that part is wrong,” 
replied his mother. 

“What’s the use of law if we don’t use it? 
And why did the Christians pray for the pro- 
hibitory, amendment and the laws, as they 
claim they did ; and what’s the use of officers, 
if we can get all these things just by praying 
for them? Did they expect God to enforce 
the laws when they got them ? With the laws 
we have and a great big two-hundred-pound 
preacher doing nothing more than to lead a 
few women around once a week from one 
‘joint’ to another, praying God to close them 
up, and three or four more preachers not do- 
ing even that much, and four or five churches 
never saying a word or doing a thing against 
them, I don’t think God, or anybody else 
that’s got any sense, is going to close those 
‘joints.’ The ‘jointists’ don’t have the least 
fear of them — they laugh at them. I tell you, 
they’re actually enjoying these prayer meet- 
ings.” 


78 


HERBERT BROWN 


“We are all opposed to the liquor business, 
of course,” said Mr. Brown, considerably sur- 
prised at the spirit shown by his son; “but it 
is simply foolish to undertake to do a thing 
when we know it is absolutely impossible to 
accomplish it, no matter how desirable or 
beneficial such a thing might be. Public sen- 
timent is against us, and that is stronger than 
the law.” 

“I don’t believe it, father,” replied Herbert, 
firmly, though respectfully. “Other laws 
have been enforced in opposition to public 
sentiment, and why cannot this? What is the 
public sentiment here anyway?” he askt, some- 
what animated. “The mayor and three of the 
five councilmen are members of the different 
churches, the police judge is a deacon in the 
Baptist church, and I believe three-fourths of 
the business men, and about the same propor- 
tion of the heads of families, of Sandpre, are 
church members. Do the toughs, the street 
loafers, the bums and cow-boys make public 
sentiment? Do the three fellows running the 
‘joints’ here, two of them nothing but tramps 
before they opened up here, and the other a 
thief, who had served a term in the peniten- 
tiary for horse-stealing — do they make the 
public sentiment?” 


AN EVENING VISIT 


79 


“Well, Herbert, what would you do about 
it?” askt his father, smiling slightly, yet show- 
ing by his tone and expression that he recog- 
nized both truth and logic in his son’s argu- 
ment. 

“Well, I wouldn’t run around after them 
praying and singing,” answered Herbert. “I 
should certainly try to show as much manhood 
at least as they. I would arrest them under 
the laws of the state, and prosecute them ?” 

“But, Herbert, that is not the work of the 
minister,” said his mother. 

“Well, what is their work then, mother? 
Is it anything except preaching on Sundays, 
and quarreling over the converts during the 
week, until they drive them back to the sa- 
loons? That’s what they have done here. I’ll 
venture that right now Jake Adams is back at 
the ‘joint’, and he will be carried home drunk 
before morning, and his mother will sit up and 
pray and cry over him the rest of the night,” 
and Herbert’s face became white with feeling. 
“Jake’s conversion was just as genuine as 
anybody’s. No one doubts that. But there’s 
no more hopes for him now. He’ll never try 
again. He’ll die a drunkard; and the churches 
and the ‘joints’ will be equally guilty.” 

“Herbert,” again spoke his mother, “you 
must not talk that way. You must not thus as- 


80 


HERBERT BROWN 


sociate the churches and the ‘joints’. For the 
one is good and the- other evil. It may be 
true that all the churches are not doing just 
what they ought, but still they are doing more 
than any other institution toward bettering 
society and morals. Think what this town 
would be without them ! No, Herbert, you 
should not talk that way. Because you think 
you see something in the church to criticise is 
not sufficient reason for condemning the whole 
church.” 

“Anyway, mother, I do not think the church 
is what it ought to be when it outnumbers two 
or three to one the liquor element in a com- 
munity, and has the law and justice and right 
all on its side, and yet lets the liquor element 
have its own way, and says it can’t help itself. 
I doa’t think it is any wonder that it has lost 
so much of the respect of the outside world.” 

Before any one had time to reply, they 
heard the gate latch click, and a step on the 
walk. 

“That is Brother Collins, I expect,” said 
Mrs. Brown. “I told him that you wanted 
him to call this evening, Herbert, and it is 
just the time he said he would be here.” 

The minister entered, shook hands, and was 
seated. He was a spare built man of about 
middle age, rather nervous temperament, and 


AN EVENING VISIT 


81 


courteous manners. He had been pastor 
there for nearly two years, and was well liked 
by his membership. 

“Well, Brother Herbert, Sister Brown told 
me you wanted to talk with me,” said the pas- 
tor, turning to Herbert, after a brief conver- 
sation. 

Mrs. Brown felt her heart beat quicker. Mr. 
Brown glanced up first at the minister, then at 
his son. It was to them a very important oc- 
casion, for they both understood the motive 
that had led Herbert to request the interview. 
Tho neither of them had ever talkt with him 
directly on the subject of church preference, 
yet they had talkt together about it a number 
of times, and it had been a very weighty mat- 
ter on their minds. Mrs. Brown had told her 
husband of the conversation on the occasion 
of Mrs. Trego's visit, and Mr. Brown had re- 
lated the discussion that took place in the 
store between “Uncle Tim" Griggs and their 
pastor, where, tho Herbert had taken no part, 
yet his sympathy for the sentiments of the old 
pioneer was clearly apparent; and now the 
conversation that had been ended by the com- 
ing of the minister had only added much to 
the fear that was already in the parents’ minds 
— the fear that their son, their only son, should 
refuse to accept the doctrines and authority of 


82 


HERBERT BROWN 


their church, for this they understood to mean 
heresy — there was no blacker term in their 
religious category. And they now awaited 
with the deepest anxiety and interest the con- 
versation that had just been introduced. 

“Yes,” replied Herbert, “I want to talk with 
you about the Constitution of the church. 
There are some things in it that I do not un- 
derstand, or rather, I should say, that I am 
afraid I do understand.” 

“Well, what are they, Brother Herbert?” 
askt the minister, “I shall be glad to assist 
you if I can.” 

“There are several things, Rev. Collins, 
that I want light on. But before going fur- 
ther, I want to confess that I think I made a 
mistake in uniting with the church before I 
knew what it stood for. And I do not take 
all the blame upon myself, either; for it seems 
to me that before any church should allow any 
one to enter it as a member, it is its duty to 
him to make clear its doctrines, especially 
those upon which there is difference of opin- 
ion.” 

“That would not do, Brother Herbert, for 
the new convert would then be without a 
home just when he needed it most. It would 
be just as reasonable to refuse them fellow- 
ship until they understood all the Bible.” 


AN EVENING VISIT 


83 


‘‘I don’t look at it that way,” replied Her- 
bert, after a moment’s thoughtful pause. “If 
I believe the Bible to be the word of God, to be 
inspired, that settles the question as to its 
truth, whether I have read it or not ; and after 
that I read it for the truth, not to see whether 
or not it is true. I don’t suppose any one 
claims that this creed is inspired, do they?” 

“O no, Brother Herbert, we do not claim 
that; but it is just as true, for it is based upon 
the inspired teachings of the Bible.” 

“That’s a question that every one has a 
right to investigate, is it not?” 

“O yes, to be sure.” 

“If you admit that our Constitution is sim- 
ply the work of uninspired men, it seems to me 
that is virtually admitting that it is subject 
to error; and that is just the reason I do not 
believe any minister should invite (or, for that 
matter, allow) any one to join his church until 
he has clearly explained its peculiar, or dis- 
tinctive, doctrines.” 

“But, Brother Herbert, you must remember 
that the doctrines held by our church were ex- 
tracted from the Holy Scriptures by most 
learned and pious councils, and have stood 
the test of ages, and that our parents and 
grandparents and thousands of others have 
lived and died in triumph under them.” 


84 


HERBERT BROWN 


“All of which may be true,” answered Her- 
bert, “but the most learned and most pious 
councils may err; and could not all you have 
just said be as truthfully said of other creeds 
than the Presbyterian, of creeds that differ 
from it, and even of some that directly contra- 
dict it? Were not they written by pious 
learned councils, too? And have not many 
Christians lived in such churches?” 

“But,” replied the minister, “because there 
are many creeds and many churches is no 
reason for condemning ours, even if some of 
them are contradictory. The fact that error 
exists does not refute truth. You will find 
that many doctrines are taught and held mere- 
ly for the sake of popularity or other unchris- 
tian purpose, and will not stand the test of 
Scripture; while the doctrines of our church 
are all clearly and unmistakably taught and 
supported by the Holy Scriptures.” 

“That is exactly the point I wish to arrive 
at,” said Herbert. “So far as I have been able 
to search, I have not found it so.” 

The minister, as well as both the father and 
the mother, started a little in surprise at this 
blunt statement of Herbert's. 

“You have not found the Constitution to 
agree with the Bible?” askt the minister, in- 
credulously. “I am indeed surprised and 


AN EVENING VISIT 


85 


grieved to hear you say that, Brother Herbert; 
and I trust I may be able to enlighten you, for 
I am sure it is you, and not the Constitution, 
that is in error. Pray what have you found 
in our Confession of Faith that you object 
to?” 

“I have markt several places in it,” replied 
Herbert; “one of them is the article on Bap- 
tism.” 

“What fault do you find there?” askt the 
pastor, with interest. 

“I’ll get the Constitution,” said Herbert, 
stepping to the table and picking up the book 
and opening it and turning to the article in 
question as he reseated himself. “Here is the 
way it reads: 

" ‘Dipping of the person into the water is not necessary ; 
but Baptism is rightly administered by pouring or sprink- 
ling water upon the person/ ” 

“Did you not read the Scripture references 
given below in connection with that article; 
and do they not make it absolutely clear?” 
askt the minister, and then without waiting for 
an answer, continued: “We must remember, 
Brother Herbert, that God’s ways are not al- 
ways man’s ways. It is not a question of what 
we think something ought to he , but of what 
God's word teaches .” 


86 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Your last statement is exactly what I 
think, Rev. Collins, though I could not have 
worded my thought so well, and tjiat is the 
reason I object to this statement in our Con- 
stitution. Answering your first question as 
to whether the Scripture references given in 
connection with this article do not make it 
absolutely clear, I must say that I do not find 
any evidence in them at all.” 

“O, you do not understand them. Read 
them,” said the minister, confidently. 

“Well, three of them are taken from Acts, 
and one from Corinthians. I will read those 
from Acts first: 

“‘And they that gladly received his word, were bap- 
tized; and the same day there were added to them about 
three thousand souls.’ — 2:41. 

“ ‘Then answered Peter, can any man forbid water, that 
these should not be baptized, which have received the 
Holy Ghost as well as we?’ — 10:46-7. 

“‘And he took them the same hour of the night, and 
washed their stripes: and was baptized, he and all his, 
straightway.’ — 16 :33. 

“I do not find in these passages even a hint 
as to the mode of baptism, unless it be on the 
word itself ; and I lookt that up in the diction- 
ary there,” said Herbert, pointing to a fine 
two-volume morocco bound copy of the 
“Standard Dictionary” in the holder near him, 
“and the only meaning it gives for the Greek 
word bapto , from which this word is taken, is 


AN EVENING VISIT 


87 


dip y the very meaning this article condemns.” 

“You must not be so ready, Brother Her- 
bert, to pass judgment. That is not the point 
at all. Do you notice in the first passage 
quoted the number baptised — three thousand? 
Do you suppose they could have dipt or 
immersed that many?” 

“I don’t know. How many did the baptiz- 
ing?” askt Herbert, with a curious expression 
that clearly indicated that this was a novel 
idea to him. 

“Well, we do not know that,” replied the 
minister, slowly. 

“I should think it would depend somewhat 
upon that, Rev. Collins — but does it really 
take any longer to dip a person than to 
sprinkle him?” askt Herbert, thoughtfully. 

“Why, certainly,” replied the minister. 

“My own observation has been to the con- 
trary,” said Herbert; “but even if it did re- 
quire longer to immerse one than to sprinkle 
him, there would yet be no proof here until 
we knew the time spent on this occasion in 
this ceremony and the number assisting, neith- 
er of which is known or even hinted. But in 
each of the other passages I have read it is a 
small number that is baptized.” 

“It is the circumstances that afford the 
proof in them,” said the minister, with an as- 


88 


HERBERT BROWN 


sumed air of decision. “One of these in- 
stances is the baptism of Cornelius’ household 
at Caesarea, and the other is the account of 
Paul and Silas in the home of the jailor; and 
there is no evidence in either case that they 
went out of the house to baptize, and it is 
hardly plausible that they had baptistries in 
their houses.” 

“Is there anything to show that they did 
not go out of the houses?” askt Herbert. 

“I do not know that there is,” answered 
Rev. Collins. 

“Do you think such evidence would have 
material weight with any just court of the 
United States?” askt Herbert. 

“We do not test these things in the United 
States courts,” replied the minister, with a 
smile, half sneer, on his face. 

“Is this the strongest evidence we have to 
support this doctrine?” askt Herbert, with a 
look of disgust. 

“Read the other passage given for refer- 
ence.” 

“It has no reference to Christian baptism, 
for it refers to the children of Israel under the 
leadership of Moses long before the Christian 
era. However, it reads: 

“ ‘And were all baptized unto Moses in the cloud and 
in the sea,.’ ” — I Cor. io :2. 


AN EVENING VISIT 


89 


“This is not cited as an example of Chris- 
tian baptism, but to show the mode. Now, do 
you suppose they were immersed in the cloud 
or in the sea?” said the minister, half sarcas- 
tically. 

“You will certainly admit, Rev. Collins, 
that in either instance they were not sprinkled 
or poured. They were certainly entirely en- 
velopt or covered over in the cloud, and in 
the sea the water stood up in walls on either 
side, and I can see somewhat a resemblance 
there to a grave, to which I think Paul com- 
pares baptism. But as this was more than a 
thousand years before Christian baptism was 
ever heard of, it seems to me a long way to go 
for evidence that does not even hint at the 
truth of what we are trying to prove, but on 
the contrary seems to disprove it. It does 
seem to me very much like an attempt on the 
part of our church to deceive, instead of teach- 
ing the truth in this matter.” 

“That is a pretty serious charge, Brother 
Herbert, for a member of the church to make,” 
said the minister, coloring, “and I do not un- 
derstand on what grounds you make it.” 

“Simply on this ground,” replied Herbert, 
growing bolder; “they have here defined the 
mode of baptism, and they have not quoted a 
single passage of Scripture that would in any 


90 


HERBERT BROWN 


way indicate any mode — unless it be the mean- 
ing of the word itself, and that would prove 
the very mode they condemn. Why don’t 
they quote the Scripture that would suggest 
the mode, unless they are afraid of it in the 
face of their definition?” 

“What Scripture?” answered the minister, 
impatiently. 

“I found by the use of the concordance a 
number of passages that seem to suggest the 
mode,” replied Herbert, taking a slip of paper 
from the Presbyterian “Constitution” in his 
hand. “Why didn’t they refer to Acts 8:38: 
‘They went down both into the water, both 
Philip and the eunuch ; and he baptized him ;’ 
or Mat. 3:15: ‘And Jesus, when he was bap- 
tized, went up straightway out of the water;’ 
or Rom. 6:4: ‘Therefore we are buried with 
him by baptism into death;’ or Jn. 3:23: 
‘John also was baptizing in Aenon, near to 
Salim, because there was much water there;’ 
or Col. 2:12: ‘Buried with him in baptism, 
wherein also we are risen with him through 
the faith of the operation of God.’ ” 

“Then you would unchurch your father and 
your mother and the thousands of other noble 
Christians that have held this faith, just be- 
cause you imagine your own opinion better 


AN EVENING VISIT 


91 


than the establisht faith?” askt the minister, 
with a grim, half cruel, smile. 

For an instant the blood rusht to Herbert’s 
face. 

“I should say that is practically begging the 
question,” replied Herbert, looking the minis- 
ter straight in the face. “Not a bit of it, sir. 
I do not believe that any man, or set of men, 
council or church, has any right to define the 
Scripture for me, much less to substitute er- 
ror for it; and I am sure I do not wish to de- 
fine it for another. But for myself I think I 
have a right to search the Scriptures.” 

“You have only the superficial significance 
of the Scripture you quote. There is a deeper, 
fuller and more beautiful significance to it all, 
which you will be able to grasp only when 
you are better acquainted with it; and the 
wise thing for you to do now is to accept the 
opinion of your superiors until you are compe- 
tent to understand these things,” said the min- 
ister, in a patronizing tone. 

“Does not this excellence in the interpreta- 
tion of Scripture and in seeing its truth and 
beauty, to which you speak of attaining, carry 
with it the ability of explaining it to others?” 
askt Herbert, with a sarcasm that almost 
shock t his parents and brought the blood to 
the face of the minister. 


92 


HERBERT BROWN 


“1 am inclined to believe, Brother Herbert, 
that you have askt for this conference not so 
much to seek information as to exhibit that 
which you erroneously think you have. This 
is not the spirit with which one should enter 
the church/’ 

“You are mistaken, Rev. Collins. I have 
no such desire. But when the only final an- 
swers to my inquiries are that I am not com- 
petent to understand these things, and that I 
will understand them better when I know 
more, etc.; at the same time requiring me to 
say that I believe them, while at the same time 
you acknowledge your inability to explain 
them to me, or rather my inability to compre- 
hend them — this is to me exasperating, Rev. 
Collins. But if I have said anything that is 
not courteous or right, I assure you I beg 
your pardon. But as to the spirit with which 
I have entered the church, I have already con- 
fest that I think I made a mistake; and I am 
sure I am as ready to correct it as you may 
be to have me do it.” 

Just then there was a knock at the door; 
and before any one had time even to rise, it 
opened, and Mrs. Adams entered. Her face 
was pale and worn, her eyes red with weep- 
ing and almost wild in expression. All started 
at her appearance and rose to their feet. 


CHAPTER VII. 

INTERIOR OF A “JOINT.” 

“Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and who- 
soever is deceived thereby is not wise.” — Prov. 20:1. 

Mrs. Adams on entering the room stood for 
a moment slightly dazed by the glaring light, 
as it was very dark outside. She lookt about 
the room as if seeking some object until her 
eyes rested upon Herbert, and then advancing 
excitedly directly toward him, she said: 

“O Herbert, I want you to go and hunt 
Jake and bring him home to me. He has been 
drinking, and I begged him not to go back to 
town, but I couldn’t keep him. He said he 
would be right back, and it has now been an 
hour. I know he will come with you, Her- 
bert; for he told me about your talk the day 
he workt for Mr. Winnow, and I know he 
likes you, and he will listen to you. I expect 
you will find him at the saloon ; but wherever 
you find him, and however you find him>, 
bring him home, Herbert. O, my boy! my 
poor, poor boy! O God, save my boy!” she 


94 


HERBERT BROWN 


cried piteously, lifting her eyes and hands in 
the attitude of prayer, and then dropping her 
hands upon her breast she staggered back- 
ward; but Mr. Brown, who was nearest her, 
caught her, and they assisted her to a chair. 

“We had best put her on the bed,” said Mrs. 
Brown, excitedly. 

“No, no,” she moaned, “I must go home.” 
And then turning to Herbert, she added ; 
“You’ll go, won’t you, Herbert, and bring him 
home?” 

“Yes,” said Herbert, “I’ll try.” 

“Now,” she said, turning to the others, as 
Herbert took his hat and started, “take me 
home, for they will be there directly, I know. 
I know Herbert will bring him to me. If he 
had only joined the church! O Jake! My 
poor, poor boy!” she wailed piteously, as she 
wrung her hands and rockt herself back and 
forth in the chair, deaf to the entreaties of 
those about her. 

Herbert walkt rapidly down the street. He 
had an impression that Jake most frequently 
went to “Bill” Miller’s place, and as that was 
nearest he had decided to go there first. “Bill” 
Miller had carried a pretty hard name for 
years. He was a recognized bully, as well as 
a thief, for he had served a term in the peni- 
tentiary for horse-stealing. As Herbert ap- 


INTERIOR OF A “JOINT" 95 

proacht his place he heard voices inside. In 
his hurry he had never once thought of how 
he should perform his mission — only of what 
he should do. He walkt straight into the 
“joint” without pausing. It was the first time 
he was ever inside one, and as he lookt around 
him he felt somewhat embarrassed. But he 
recognized a number of familiar faces, and 
among them the flushed face of Jake. He 
walkt straight up to him, and laying his hand 
on his shoulder, said: 

“Come, Jake, let's go home.” 

“Go home ! I ain't got no bis'ness to home,” 
said Jake, looking up in surprise. 

“Let 'im alone,” came a heavy gruff voice 
from behind the bar; and looking in that direc- 
tion, Herbert recognized the big form and the 
brutal face of “Bill” Miller, the proprietor. 

“Come, take a drink with me,” said Jake, 
pulling at his sleeve, “and then I will go home 
with you.” 

“That’s right !” “Fair enough !” “Make him 
do it!” and other expressions burst from the 
noisy crowd, accompanied by drunken “Ha- 
has.” 

“O no, Jake, you know I do not drink ; and 
you must not drink any more tonight. Come, 
let's go." 


96 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Temperance, eh ?” “Ha! ha!” “Ho! ho!” 
from the boisterous company. 

Herbert had never before been in such com- 
pany, and though he had no coward’s heart, he 
was not a little embarrassed by the uncouth 
greeting he was receiving from the half-drunk- 
en crowd. 

“Let him be. He’s of age, and has a right 
to go and stay where he pleases.” The voice 
came from a table where two men were play- 
ing checkers. Turning, Herbert recognized 
Frank Tuttle, the sheriff of the county. He 
was at first slightly abasht at his presence and 
words, and then realizing who the big fellow 
was, his embarrassment suddenly left him, and 
turning toward him, he said : 

“If I am not mistaken, Mr. Tuttle, it is your 
duty as an officer of the law to be giving evi- 
dence against such an establishment as this, 
instead of encouraging it.” 

“My advice to you, young fellow, is to get 
out of here and attend to your own business,” 
said the sheriff, indignantly. 

“Come on, boys,” shouted Jake; staggering 
toward the counter and throwing down a dol- 
lar, “this is my treat. Fill ’em up, Bill. Come 
on, Herbert, an’ take a drink with us.” 

“Don’t let him have any more,” said Her- 
bert, extending his hand toward the proprie- 


INTERIOR OF A “JOINT" 97 

tor, who had just tost the dollar into the cash- 
drawer; “he has too much already, as you well 
know.” 

“To h — 1 with ye!” exclaimed the powerful 
voice of the bully. “A man gits here w’at he 
pays fur ; an’ I don’t ’low no d — d fools ter in- 
terfere nuther. They don’t no man dictate 
bis’ness ter Bill Miller, spec’ly no d — d young 
sucker like ye !” he said, glaring like a demon 
at Herbert. 

“Your business is open violation of the law, 
and you are no better than an outlaw,” said 
Herbert, turning full toward him. “You ought 
to be ashamed to sell him another drink, and 
if you were a man you wouldn’t do it.” 

“A man, eh ! If I wus a man, eh ! What 
d’ye mean by that?” hist the enraged bar- 
tender through his teeth. 

“I mean just what I say, sir,” replied Her- 
bert, firmly; “I mean you are no man if you 
sell Jake Adams another drink tonight, seeing 
the condition he is in.” 

“You d— d , Bill Miller’ll 

show ye whether he’s a man,” and he started 
around the counter, fairly gnashing his teeth 
in rage. 

All cleared the way for the big “joint”-keep- 
er. They were not more than eight feet apart 
when he turned the end of the counter, and he 


98 


HERBERT BROWN 


advanced directly toward Herbert, his fierce 
eyes and brutal face looking more like an in- 
furiated beast than a human being. Herbert 
turned directly facing him, his face white, his 
lips drawn tight, his strong jaw firmly set, his 
eyes gleaming with a fierceness they had never 
known before. He stood erect, his hands 
clenched, the strong muscles of his arms and 
shoulders contracted, his whole form swaying 
slightly under the high tension of every mus- 
cle in it, like a beast crouching the instant 
before it springs upon its adversary. 

“Lay your hands on me, you beastly thief,” 
said Herbert, in a deep, guttural voice, “and 
I’ll show you it’s no boy your handling.” 

Herbert Brown felt within himself an im- 
pulse to rush upon his antagonist, and the de- 
sire seemed to permeate his whole body, every 
muscle and sinew; so much so that he could 
hardly refrain from dashing forward and smit- 
ing his advancing enemy with a crushing 
blow. The bully, warmed by drink and burn- 
ing with rage, was advancing. Herbert's arms 
came spontaneously into position. The left 
hand tightly clenched was slightly advanced, 
and the right drawn back to a line with the 
shoulder, the body leaning slightly forward in 
readiness to deliver the blow he could hardly 
await the opportunity for. 


INTERIOR OF A 1 JOINT" 99 

“Hoi’ on thar, Bill Miller! The boy’s in the 
right, an’ ye’re in the wrong! Don’t ye dare 
ter strike ’im, er ye’ll larn ’at 01’ Tim’s han’ 
ain’t los’ its cunnin’ yet!” and the form of 
“Old Tim” Griggs rusht between the ready, 
eager combatants. “Don’t ye tech ’im!” re- 
peated the old man, his heavy cane raised in 
his right hand and his left hand against the 
breast of the bully. 

Just then the sheriff and one or two others 
rusht up and seized Miller, who began to 
struggle violently to free himself. 

“Let me loose ! Let me loose, d — n ye ! Let 
me smash his face !” 

Herbert had not moved from his position, 
nor had his features or attitude changed. His 
eyes flasht even more, as he listened to the 
curses and vile names hurled at him by his 
furious enemy. 

“Let him loose, if you want to,” said Her- 
bert, through his teeth, “I’ll take care of him ; 
and what’s more I shall see if there is not a 
way of stopping his class of business.” 

“Let me loose! Let me loose, I tell ye! 
I’ll fix him !” shouted Miller, renewing his 
struggles. 

During all this Jake Adams did not seem 
to realize what was taking place, so thorough- 
ly was he under the influence of drink, but now 

lofc. 


100 


HERBERT BROWN 


the loud threats of Bill Miller seemed to 
awaken him to a consciousness of the situa- 
tion, and reeling forward, he said : 

“Ye say ye’ll fix Herbert Brown? (hie) 
He’s my frien’, an’ any feller ’at (hie) touches 
him’ll have me ter lick! D’ye understan’?” 
said Jake, staggering in between the two men. 

“Come, come, Bill, this won’t do. Your 
place is behind the counter,” said the sheriff, 
pushing him along. Bill Miller reluctantly 
yielded and allowed himself to be pusht back 
behind the counter, at the same time mutter- 
ing oaths and imprecations against any one 
that would dare to insult him in his own place 
of business. 

“Now, let’s have the drinks !” shouted some 
one in the crowd. 

“Yes, yes,” came from different mouths. 

“Come on,” said Jake, staggering back to- 
ward the counter, “I’ve paid for ’em.” 

“No, Jake,” said Herbert, catching him by 
the shoulder and turning him part way around, 
“you must not drink any more tonight. You 
have too much already.” 

“Let ’im alone !” came a voice from the 
crowd. 

“I have come here tonight at the request of 
his sick mother to bring him home,” said Her- 
bert, turning toward the crowd with a deter- 


INTERIOR OF A “JOINT” 101 

mined countenance, “and, tho I may not be 
able to take him home, yet he will not take a 
drink while I am here.” 

“See here, Jake,” said Uncle Tim Griggs, 
stepping up directly in front of him and laying 
his hand firmly on his shoulder, “see here; 
Herbert Brown’s the best frien’ ye’ve got in 
this crowd, an’ now you go on home with ’im.” 

“Well, I guess I’ll do it if you (hie) say so,” 
said Jake with an effort to keep his eyes open, 
“but come on, let’s have a drink first.” 

“No, Jake; you’ve had ’nough a’ready. You 
go on with Herbert.” 

“Then gimme back my (hie) dollar,” he 
said, turning toward the proprietor. 

“Give ’im back ’is doller, Bill, an’ let ’im 
go,” said Uncle Tim, addressing the bully. 

“The Devil I will!” replied the other, 
“ ’tain’t his doller. It’s mine, an’ the feller ’at 
gits it’ll arn it.” 

“Look ’e here, Bill Miller,” said Uncle Tim, 
walking up close to the counter and pointing 
his cane straight into the face of the bully, 
“ef ye keep thet doller, ye’ll steal it! D’ye 
hear?” 

“He ordered the drinks,” replied the other, 
shrinking back slightly from his close prox- 
imity to the end of Uncle Tim’s cane, “an’ 


102 HERBERT BROWN 

paid fer ’em. It wus a fair deal. He kin git 
the drinks, but he can’t have the doller.” 

“Ef it wus Tim Griggs ye’s a dealin’ with, 
an’ ye didn’t give it back, he’d take it out o’ 
yer hide,” said Uncle Tim, shaking his cane 
still closer to the nose of the angry ruffian. 
“Ef ye keep it, Tim Griggs says, ye’re nuthin’ 
but a thief! D’ye understan’? Ef ye don’ 
give it back, ye’re nuthin’ but a d — d thief !” 

Scowling, the “joint”-keeper pulled out the 
money-drawer, and taking out a dollar threw 
it with a ring upon the counter. 

“There’s yer d — d doller! Take it, an’ git 
out o’ here,” he said, addressing Jake. 

“There’s yer doller, Jake; come an’ git it,” 
said Uncle Tim, pointing to it with his cane. 

Jake fumbled around, but finally succeeded 
in getting it; and awkwardly thrusting it into 
his pocket, staggered out of the building, as- 
sisted by the strong arm of Herbert. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


CONSULTATION. 

“Upon this rock I will build my church.” — Mat. 16:18. 

“Come in, Herbert; just take that seat. 
You have probably been wondering why I 
askt you to call this evening? I would have 
told you when I made the request, but you will 
remember there were a number in the bank at 
the time, and I did not care to mention the 
matter in their presence.” 

The speaker was a gentleman about fifty 
years of age, sharp but kindly blue eyes, close- 
ly cropt beard, full, broad forehead, and skull 
exceptionally wide between the ears — indicat- 
ing firmness and business ability. He was 
drest in a dark gray business suit. He was 
about medium height and of rather heavy 
build. It was Mr. Rule, the president of the 
First National Bank of Sandpre. Tho pre- 
vious to the recent meeting he had made no 
profession of Christianity, yet he had been a 
very liberal contributor to moral or religious 
enterprises. In the preparation for the recent 

103 


104 


HERBERT BROWN 


meeting the churches had failed to raise the 
necessary amount to meet the expenses for 
tent rent, lumber, carpenter work, etc. — lack- 
ing nearly $100. A committee consisting of 
two of the pastors had presented the matter 
to Mr. Rule, and he had advanced the amount, 
which the ministers agreed to raise during the 
meeting; but at the close of the meeting, Mr. 
Rule canceled the account, making the loan a 
contribution. 

When Herbert had gone into the bank that 
afternoon to make deposit of the day's re- 
ceipts, Mr. Rule had askt him if it would be 
convenient for him to call at his house that 
evening, that he had a matter of which he 
wisht to talk with him. 

“The matter of which I wish to speak to 
youds the church," said Mr. Rule; “but let us 
go into the parlor, as my family are as much 
interested in this as I am," and Mr. Rule led 
the way from the library to the parlor. 

Here they met Mr. Rule’s family, except 
the married daughter — the wife, two daugh- 
ters and three sons. Mr. Rule was a man of 
strict business quality, and one of the wealth- 
iest men in the county ; and his family was one 
of the most influential and highly respected of 
the town. Tho the representatives of the dif- 
ferent churches had visited them, as they had 


CONSULTATION 


105 


the other converts, yet the recognized intelli- 
gence of Mr. Rule’s family had prevented 
the domineering spirit and the dictatorial atti- 
tude with which some had approached the 
less favored converts. The pastors of at least 
three of the churches had themselves called 
upon Mr. Rule; but he had cut short the con- 
versation with each with a few pointed ques- 
tions, or the remark : “Just; hand me at your 
convenience a copy of your church rules and 
doctrines, and I will look it over at my leisure. 
I am quite busy just now,” or something to 
that effect. And after examining the same he 
had in each case handed it back, saying: “I 
have examined it carefully, but I cannot in- 
dorse it,” or something similar. 

“Now, Herbert,” said Mr. Rule, after the 
usual preliminaries and a few pleasant re- 
marks by the different members of the com- 
pany, “as I have just said, the church is the 
matter of which we wish to talk with you. I 
have heard that you are dissatisfied with your 
church connection, or that the church is dis- 
satisfied with your attitude, and other similar 
rumors. May I ask whether there is any 
truth in them?” 

Herbert Brown colored slightly, but re- 
plied : 

“I have not heard the rumors, Mr. Rule, 


106 


HERBERT BROWN 


but I must confess that there is probably some 
truth in them. I was placed — or, rather, I 
placed myself in an embarrassing position, by 
uniting with a church before I knew what it 
stood for; I mean, before I was acquainted 
with its peculiar doctrines. It was certainly 
a very foolish, almost silly, thing to do, as I 
can now see ; and yet I am convinced that the 
great majority go into the churches m just 
that way.” 

“You signed the obligation, and read it 
afterwards,” broke in Mr. Rule, smiling. 

“That is exactly what I did, and I am sure 
it doesn’t look any more foolish to you than 
it does to me now.” 

“I did not mean to criticise, Herbert, I just 
happened to think of the resemblance. Go on.” 

“Of course, you understand how it started. 
The evening I went forward, I, like all the 
rest, was askt my church preference. I had 
never thought much about that before, and as 
my parents belonged to the Presbyterian 
church, I gave that — not from any knowledge 
of its doctrines or principles, or preference 
for them, but simply because my parents be- 
longed there.” 

“Mary and I were just running the list of 
the converts a little while ago,” broke in Mrs. 
Rule, “and we find that every one of the con- 


CONSULTATION 


107 


verts whose parents belong to either of the 
churches here have united with the church to 
which their parents belong, with one single 
exception, and one of her parents belongs to 
one church and one to another; and we could 
not help thinking that was the principal if not 
the only reason they had. But excuse me, 
Herbert. Go on, and tell the rest.” 

“Well, when I began reading the ‘Constitu- 
tion of the Presbyterian Church/ I found 
much there that I did not believe, and I lookt 
the points up in the Bible the best I could, and 
the more I searcht the Scripture the more I 
was convinced that some of the doctrines of 
that church were not taught in the Bible. I 
took advantage of an opportunity to talk with 
Rev. Merlin, and afterward took the matter to 
my own pastor. But neither of them gave me 
a satisfactory explanation, or satisfactory an- 
swers to my questions. The main argument 
of each of them was the high authority of 
those who made the creeds of their churches, 
or, as they expressed it, of those who extracted 
them from the Bible, but I had found some 
terms that they contest had never been in the 
Bible, so I guess they had not ‘extracted’ them 
from the Bible. Each of them advised me to 
let the question of the truth or falsity of the 
doctrines of the church alone until I was bet- 


108 


HERBERT BROWN 


ter able to understand them ; but the absurd- 
ity of requiring me to believe something that 
I must not try to understand was too appar- 
ently unreasonable for me to consider.” 

“That is just what we think, Herbert,” said 
Mrs. Rule, who had been listening very atten- 
tively to what Herbert had been relating. “I 
do not see the use of these different church 
creeds if they are all in the Bible.” 

“And what is not in the Bible ought not to 
be in the creed,” said Mary, the oldest daugh- 
ter, except her married sister, decisively. 

“I askt Rev. Merlin that very question,” 
said Herbert. 

“What answer did he give you?” askt Mrs. 
Rule, before Herbert had time to finish what 
he was going to say. 

“He said the object of their Discipline, or 
creed, is to protect their church from heresy, 
or something to that effect.” 

“And pray how does he expect it to protect 
them from heresy?” askt Mrs. Rule, with true 
womanly curiosity, “unless he believes the 
Methodist church is the only one that is free 
from heresy, or else admits that the creeds of 
the other churches serve the same purpose?” 

“What is heresy, father?” askt Albert, a 
bright boy of fourteen, next to the youngest 


CONSULTATION 


109 


member of the family. Albert had made pro- 
fession of religion during the meeting. 

“Well, it is not very easy to tell you just 
what it means, Albert; but it means a differ- 
ent belief from the speaker, or the church of 
which one is speaking. It may mean evil, or it 
may mean good, depending upon who says it. 
Paul says that he worshipt after the way called 
heresy, and no doubt Christ and the disciples 
were often called heretics.” And then turn- 
ing toward Herbert, Mr. Rule continued, 
“This seems to me a very inconsistent position 
that the churches take in this matter ; namely, 
holding to these Confessions, Disciplines, etc., 
for the purpose of protecting themselves 
against heresy and error, as they claim they 
do, and at the same time inviting and advising 
people to come into the church without under- 
standing those very doctrines.” 

“When I talkt with Rev. Collins and with 
Rev. Merlin of these matters,” said Herbert, 
“each of them emphasized that his own church 
creed was clearly taught in the Bible. It 
seems to me that, inasmuch as different creeds 
flatly contradict one another in certain points, 
that to assert that one’s creed is clearly 
taught in the Bible is a reflection upon either 
the intelligence or the integrity of the others. 


110 


HERBERT BROWN 


I do not see how it can be interpreted other- 
wise. ^ 

“It cannot consistenly,” said Mr. Rule ; “and 
that was exactly the interpretation put upon 
them when they were first formulated; and 
that is really the only consistent grounds 
for them; and when the churches abandoned 
that interpretation they should have aban- 
doned their creeds also.” 

Herbert listened all the more attentively to 
what Mr. Rule was saying because he knew 
him to be not only a man of careful and con- 
servative judgment, but also a man of educa- 
tion and very extensive reading. His library 
was probably the best in the town. Tho he 
had never made a special study of church his- 
tory, yet his extensive knowledge of general 
history had incidentally made him pretty well 
acquainted with the history of the churches 
and their creeds, so closely is church history 
connected with the great events determining 
the birth, progress and destiny of nations. 

“Do you mean,” said Herbert, “that when 
those church creeds were adopted, the 
churches adopting them believed that all that 
did not accept them were heretics?” 

“Certainly,” replied Mr. Rule. “And what 
is more, until the laws of the different nations 


CONSULTATION 


111 


forbade it, they punisht those that rejected 
their creeds by death or otherwise.” 

“Did the Presbyterian or the Methodist 
church ever do that?” askt Herbert. 

“The Presbyterian did, but the Methodist 
church was not organized until after the laws 
of nations forbade persecution for religious 
belief. But the spirit of intolerance is the 
spirit of persecution, and the only reason it 
does not reveal itself as such is the whole- 
some laws of our nation that prohibit it. The 
spirit in this nineteenth century that would 
dictate to another his creed, or that would re- 
fuse him fellowship because of an honest opin- 
ion of Scripture, is the same that in the fif- 
teenth century burned Huss, Jerome and oth- 
ers at the stake, and that tortured, slew and 
burned thousands of others. These records of 
history kept me for a long time from becom- 
ing a Christian,” continued Mr. Rule. “As I 
read these accounts of murder, robbery, and 
persecution, I thought I was reading the his- 
tory of Christianity; and I had read of no 
heathen religion the pages of whose history 
were blacker with sin or redder with crime. 
But I have learned that all this is absolutely 
contrary to both the letter and the spirit of 
the Bible.” 

“Do you suppose, Mr. Rule, there was a time 


112 


HERBERT BROWN 


when there was only one church, and when 
they had none ol these creeds?” askt Herbert. 

“Undoubtedly so. The church was not di- 
vided until the fourth century, when the first 
doctrine was laid down by a church council, 
if we could call it that, which historians de- 
scribe as a mob of angry men, many of them 
armed, and whose conduct they compare to 
that of an assembly of gladiators. Unscrupu- 
lous, scheming kings and other ambitious men 
saw in the growing Christian church a power 
that they could use to their own selfish ends, 
and they seized upon it, and this is at the bot- 
tom of almost every one of those doctrines 
that have formed the basis of religious 
schism.” 

“What was that doctrine,” askt Herbert, 
with interest. 

“That was the doctrine called the ‘Trinity/ ” 
replied Mr. Rule. 

“Is the doctrine true, father?” askt Seth, a 
young man of nineteen, the oldest son. 

“I would not pretend to say,” answered Mr. 
Rule, “for I have not made a study of it. The 
most of the churches accept it, tho that would 
be an argument neither for nor against it, for 
they do that for the same reason that we wear 
buttons on the back of long-tailed coats.” 

“What's that, father?” askt nine-year-old 


CONSULTATION 


113 


Robert, his eyes sparkling with childish curi- 
osity. 

“Because our fathers did,” replied his 
father. 

“But why did they do it?” again inquired 
Robert, his curiosity not to be so easily satis- 
fied. 

“Well,” replied Mr. Rule, musing, “Fashion 
requires the wearing of the buttons and the 
churches require a belief in the creeds, both 
as relics of old customs or practices that have 
past away so long ago that the common peo- 
ple have forgotten them. Generations ago, 
when the nobles, who wore long coats, went 
on their hunting expeditions, and on other 
occasions, they used to button up their coat 
tails; and, like the creeds, the buttons have 
been retained, tho the necessity for them has 
long since past away.” 

“Was there a time when creeds were neces- 
sary, father?” askt Seth. 

“I do not mean to say,” replied Mr. Rule, 
“that these creeds or doctrines, as tests of 
Christianity, were ever necessary; but for 
more than a thousand years it was very im- 
portant that one believed them, or at least 
pretended to.” 

“Why was it more important then than now 


114 


HERBERT BROWN 


to believe them, or to pretend to believe them, 
father?” askt Mary. 

“To doubt or deny them then meant im- 
prisonment, confiscation of property, banish- 
ment, or death. Hundreds of thousands were 
thus punisht.” 

“Is a belief of these doctrines important 
now, father?” again askt Mary. 

“Not so important as honesty of convic- 
tions. They are simply man’s opinions of the 
teachings of Scripture, and should never be 
made tests of Christian fellowship, as they are. 
Those that we find taught in the Bible we 
have a right to accept; and those we do not 
believe to be there we certainly have an equal 
right to reject. As to this doctrine of which 
we are speaking, the ‘Trinity,’ certainly a be- 
lief in it neither makes nor unmakes Chris- 
tians; and it was never made a test by Christ 
or his apostles or disciples.” 

“Then it certainly ought not be now,” said 
Herbert. 

“Why would it not be well if all the 
churches would drop their creeds and all fel- 
lowship and worship together?” askt Mrs. 
Rule. 

“I askt Rev. Merlin that question,” said 
Herbert, “and he replied that such a church 
would be full of contention, quarreling, etc., 


CONSULTATION 


115 


or something to that effect; but I don’t be- 
lieve it.” 

“Rev. Merlin is unmistakably wrong there,” 
said Mr. Rule ; “it is not the holding of differ- 
ent opinions that creates this bitter feeling 
among churches and Christians, but the re- 
fusal to fellowship on account of difference of 
opinion — this spirit of intolerance by which 
one man says to another : My opinion is better 
than yours; you have no right to an opinion 
that differs from mine. Instead of leading to 
contention and schism, such a freedom would 
tend toward unity of faith, for instead of read- 
ing the Bible for Scripture to prove their own 
church doctrine, they would read it for the 
truth.” 

“Why wouldn’t that be right now?” askt 
Mary, her face beaming. “That would be like 
the meeting at the tent, would it not?” 

“It would be even better than that,” re- 
plied Mr. Rule, “for there would not be the 
envy and jealousy that existed in that meeting 
among the different factions, which manifest- 
ed itself after the meeting had closed.” 

“O, wouldn’t that be just grand!” ex- 
claimed Ruth, a bright girl of sixteen, the 
youngest daughter. “Father, why couldn’t 
we build a large church house instead of rent- 


116 


HERBERT BROWN 


ing a tent, and all have church together, like 
we did during the meeting ?” 

Every face in the audience indicated its 
strong sympathy with Ruth’s enthusiastic 
proposition. Ruth’s dark brown eyes, just 
like her mother’s, were fairly beaming with 
joy, as she imagined the impossibility of the 
rejection of her proposition. 

“What is your idea, Herbert?” askt Mr. 
Rule. 

“I do not know that I fully understand the 
exact meaning of your question, Mr. Rule; 
and I doubt whether I could answer it if I did, 
for I do not have any very definite ideas in 
this matter. However, I cannot help thinking 
that it would have been a wonderful blessing 
to all in the churches and those outside, too, 
if, while that meeting was going on so suc- 
cessfully, and all were enjoying it so glorious- 
ly, by some strange spell the memory of their 
churches and church creeds and prejudices 
could have vanished forever, and by some 
magic art all the church houses of Sandpre 
could have been taken down and the material 
erected into one grand commodious building, 
to take the place of the tent. While that is 
about my idea of what the church ought to be, 
yet I can see so many obstacles in the way of 
reaching it that my imagination pictures its 


CONSULTATION 


117 


accomplishment only through some magic or 
supernatural power.” 

“Good! good!” exclaimed Ruth, clapping 
her hands. 

“Herbert, you have certainly spoken well,” 
said Mrs. Rule. 

Herbert had not thought of being eloquent, 
but the expression of his face and the earnest- 
ness of his tones were in themselves an elo- 
quence that no niceties of rhetoric could have 
surpast. 

“I have been thinking some along this line,” 
said Mr. Rule, “tho I have not attempted to 
formulate any definite plan. I agree with you 
that there are a good many difficulties and 
obstacles in the way. Probably some of them 
are impossible to overcome — I do not know. 
But inasmuch as this course seems unques- 
tionably right, I believe it is our duty to make 
at least some effort in that direction.” 

“I don't understand you,” said Herbert, 
with an inquisitive expression. 

“I mean an attempt toward unity in Chris- 
tian worship,” replied Mr. Rule. “I mean 
an attempt to build a union church, which 
shall be simply Christian — not Methodist, or 
Baptist, or Presbyterian, but just Christian — 
where every Christian of whatever creed may 


118 


HERBERT BROWN 


worship without being questioned as to his 
peculiar doctrines.” 

Strange as it may seem to the reader, Her- 
bert Brown was actually startled by this state- 
ment from Mr. Rule. Though Herbert had 
fully meant all he had been saying, yet he had 
not thought of so practical an application of 
it. He had really forgotten that he was talk- 
ing with so thoroughly practical a business 
man, a man who never built an air castle but 
with the intention of replacing it with one 
built with hands. ' 

“You mean actually to build another house 
of worship, Mr. Rule?” askt Herbert. 

“Why, certainly; what else could I mean,” 
replied Mr. Rule. 

“Would it be your idea then to organize an- 
other church with the Bible as its only creed?” 
askt Herbert, with the deepest interest. 

“I am not fully decided in that matter,” re- 
plied Mr. Rule. “That would undoubtedly be 
best if all would unite on that basis, and for- 
get their contentions and bitterness and preju- 
dice toward each other; but I can hardly be- 
lieve such a thing would be immediately pos- 
sible. But at least it could be a place for hold- 
ing occasional ‘union’ meetings like the one 
recently held, and then I think a union ser^ 
vice could be arranged for at least once a 


CONSULTATION 


119 


week, where all the Christians of the town 
could meet together for worship, and where 
those who do not want to subscribe to any of 
the church creeds could have a church home. 
The ministers of the town could arrange to 
preside and preach alternately. ,, 

“How would you go about such an arrange- 
ment P” askt Herbert. 

“That, too, is a question in my mind; but I 
had thought of a conference of a few of the 
members of the different churches, including 
the pastors ; and if the suggestion seems prac- 
tical we can there lay our plans.” 

“O, I know the plan will work,” exclaimed 
Ruth. 

“I don’t see how any Christian could object 
to it,” said Mary. 

“When would you think of calling such a 
conference?” askt Herbert. 

“I have not considered the details of such 
an arrangement, Herbert,” replied Mr. Rule; 
“and that is one reason I wanted to talk with 
you. What would you think of Thursday 
evening; that is, day after tomorrow?” 

“I think it would be all right, Mr. Rule, I am 
sure,” replied Herbert. “Where shall we 
meet ?” 

“I do not know. I think we could meet 


120 


HERBERT BROWN 


right here, if desirable — could we not, Molly?” 
said Mr. Rule, addressing his wife. 

“Why, yes, father; I am sure we shall all 
be glad to have the meeting here.” 

“Who shall be invited to the conference?” 
askt Herbert. 

“Well,” answered Mr. Rule, “I would sug- 
gest the pastors of the different churches and 
a few members probably, but I would suggest 
that only those be invited who we have reason 
to believe would be favorable to such a move. 
What do you think about it?” 

“I think it a good idea. I look, however,” 
said Herbert, “for the greatest opposition 
from the ministers themselves.” 

“Why so, Herbert?” askt Mr. Rule. 

“Well, I should not have said that a short 
time ago; but since my talk with the pastors 
of the Methodist and the Presbyterian church, 
I am convinced that they will resist any move 
that would tend toward the organization of a 
church on the Bible alone.” 

“How can they do that,” askt Mrs. Rule, 
“when they claim that their own doctrines are 
all taken from the Bible?” 

“I think,” replied Herbert, “it is because 
they fear the teachings of the Bible in the face 
of some of their doctrines. Then, too, you 
know that Rev. Collins and Rev. Merlin are 


CONSULTATION 


121 


not on the friendliest terms since their dis- 
pute some time ago on the street. But I am 
heartily in favor of the plan you suggest, Mr. 
Rule. I think, however, it will be best for you 
to invite the ministers, as you will have a 
greater influence with them. Who else shall 
be invited ?” 

“I think for each of us to invite such others 
as we desire will be best, though I believe a 
small number for the first conference will be 
preferable,” answered Mr. Rule. 

“Well, I suppose that is all for the present ?” 
askt Herbert, glancing at the clock. “As it is 
getting a little late, I will be going. What 
will be the hour of the meeting ?” he added, as 
he took his hat. 

“I will say half past seven, if agreeable,” 
answered Mr. Rule. 

“Will it be all right for me to invite my 
parents?” askt Herbert, pausing, with his 
hand on the door-knob. 

“Certainly, I shall be very glad to have them 
present.” 

“And,” said Herbert, coloring the least per- 
ceptible shade, “would it be all right to invite 
Mr. Winnow’s family?” 

“Yes, indeed, Herbert, and any others you 
may desire,” replied Mr. Rule. 


122 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Yes, invite them/’ said Mrs. Rule, “both 
families are good friends of ours, and we shall 
be more than pleased to have them come.” 

“Thank you,” said Herbert. “Good even- 
ing,” and bowing he closed the door behind 
him. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE FIRST CONFERENCE. 

“But why dost thou judge thy brother? or why dost 
thou set at nought thy brother? for we shall all stand 
before the judgment seat of Christ.” — Rom. 14:10. 

It was Thursday evening, the time appoint- 
ed for the conference. The large sliding doors 
between the sitting room and the parlor of 
Mr. Rule’s handsome convenient residence 
had been opened, and the two rooms thrown 
into one. All invited were present, except the 
pastor of the United Brethren church, and 
he could not attend on account of a previous 
engagement. Those present were the pastors 
of the other three churches, the wife of the 
pastor of the Baptist church, Mr. Brown’s 
family, Mr. Winnow’s family, besides Mr. 
Rule’s family and their married daughter and 
her husband, Mr. and Mrs. Young. There 
was clearly considerable coldness and reserve 
among the members of the little conference; 
but this had been anticipated, and Mrs. Rule 
and her daughters put forth a special effort 
to make the half hour previous to the business 

123 


124 


HERBERT BROWN 


conference as pleasant and agreeable as pos- 
sible. The clock had just struck eight. 

“The object of this meeting,” said Mr. Rule, 
elevating his voice slightly in order to attract 
the attention of all, and then lowering it to 
its usual tone, proceeded, “is to consider the 
question of a closer Christian fellowship, 
Christian union, or church federation, as may 
seem most advisable after consultation. I 
wish to thank you for your kind response to 
our invitation, and trust all will be free and 
unreserved in expressing your opinions. As 
for myself, I should be glad to see a real union 
of all the Christians of this community in one 
church. But if that is not thought possible 
or advisable, my second suggestion is to build 
a union church, where union services might 
be occasionally or regularly conducted by the 
pastors of the different churches, and where 
the Christians that do not belong to any of 
the churches might find a church home. I 
think I have made clear the object of the 
meeting, and now let us hear from others.” 

There was profound silence. A few signifi- 
cant glances were exchanged. The Baptist 
minister glanced at his wife. The Methodist 
and the Presbyterian minister, who happened 
to sit directly facing each other, exchanged 
glances, and with those glances much of their 


THE FIRST CONFERENCE 


125 


former enmity, if not all, vanisht. Ah! the 
power, — the significance, — of a glance. What 
can convey the same love or hatred; encour- 
agement or discouragement; comfort or mis- 
ery; happiness or sorrow! What can more 
effectually lift the crushed, broken, down- 
trodden spirits of man; or more quickly quell 
and crush them ! Mr. Rule had been a mem- 
ber of a number of bankers’ associations and 
other business conferences, and had presided 
for years over the stockholders’ and directors’ 
meetings of the bank, but this was his first 
experience in a religious meeting. Though 
he had not expected all to fall in at once with 
his suggestion, yet the sentiment that he read 
unmistakably in the faces and glances that 
had greeted his announcement of the object 
of the meeting was a complete surprise to 
him. But he was not a man easily turned 
from his purpose, and, addressing the Baptist 
minister, he said: 

“Rev. Bailey, what is your opinion in the 
matter?” 

“Well, brethren and sisters,” said the min- 
ister, speaking very slowly and deliberately, 
“this is an entirely new idea to me, and I 
can’t say as I have any very definite idea or 
opinion. Of course I believe in cultivating 
a friendly relation among all the Christians 


126 


HERBERT BROWN 


of a community, but as to the best way to do 
that I cannot say that I have any definite opin- 
ion. ’’ 

“There are two propositions for considera- 
tion,” said Mr. Rule; “one is that all the Chris- 
tians of this community unite in one church, 
and worship and work together; the other is 
that we build a union church, where we may 
have union services, in addition to the regular 
services at the different churches, and where 
we could hold union revival meetings similar 
to the one we have had. Are you favorable to 
either of these propositions, Rev. Bailey?” 

“I have not given the matter enough 
thought to be in position to commit myself at 
present.” 

“What is your opinion, Rev. Collins?” said 
Mr. Rule, turning toward the Presbyterian 
pastor. 

“My opinion is that we have enough 
churches in this town already,” replied the 
minister, curtly. 

“Rev. Merlin,” said Mr. Rule, turning from 
the Presbyterian to the Methodist minister. 

“The other brethren have about exprest 
my sentiments,” replied Rev. Merlin. “I 
might add, however, that I think such a move 
would be a jump backward of about a thou- 
sand years.” 


THE FIRST CONFERENCE 


127 


“If you had said nearly two thousand, I 
should be ready to agree with you/’ said Mr. 
Rule, unable to resist the temptation to retort. 

A smile broke out on several faces as they 
saw the significance of Mr. Rule’s reply. 

“It seems to me,” said Rev. Collins, “that 
instead of trying to organize another society, 
it would be much better and wiser to fall in 
with the churches we already have, and help 
and strengthen them.” 

“That is just my opinion,” said the Baptist 
minister, “for we have all the churches now 
that this town is able to support.” 

“We have heard from the ministers,” said 
Mr. Rule, after a moment’s pause. “Let us 
hear from others. Herbert, we shall be glad 
to hear your opinion.” 

“I am just a beginner, and know so little 
about such matters,” said Herbert, coloring 
and showing nervousness, “that my opinion 
will be worth very little. But I can answer 
for myself that the reason some do not fall 
in with the churches we already have and help 
them is because they cannot accept the church 
creeds.” 

“Can’t accept any of them?” askt Rev. Mer- 
lin, abruptly. 

“7 cannot,” answered Herbert, turning and 


128 


HERBERT BROWN 


fixing his eyes steadily upon his uncouth ques- 
tioner. 

“I should think it would be a pretty particu- 
lar kind of person that couldn’t find a home 
in some of the churches, as many as he has 
here to choose from,” said the big preacher, 
laughing and looking over the audience. 

“I think it right that one should be particu- 
lar in matters of religion and church,” replied 
Herbert, firmly. 

“May be you don’t want to find a creed you 
can accept,” said Rev. Merlin, half tauntingly. 

“If I should answer that may be I do, our 
arguments would be equal,” replied Herbert, 
with a wit that made his opponent perceptibly 
flinch. “I will not unite with any church 
whose creed will shut out other Christians, 
even though I believe its creed to be true. 
Nor do I believe the Bible gives authority to 
any church to do that.” 

“I am inclined to think,” said Rev. Collins, 
glancing toward Herbert, “that this move is 
rather the outcome of a disposition on the 
part of a few restless spirits to criticise, than 
a real failure on their part to find a home in 
the churches.” 

Herbert’s eyes sparkled and his lips parted 
to reply; but Mr. Rule’s good judgment pre- 
vented, for he knew from the expression on 


THE FIRST CONFERENCE 


129 


Herbert’s face that the insinuating remarks 
of the minister would bring forth a cutting re- 
tort, and to prevent it he said before Herbert 
had time to answer, — 

“It is not our object to discuss individual 
beliefs or opinions of the Bible this evening. 
The condition that confronts us is simply this: 
There are four or five different churches here, 
each holding to a certain code of doctrines, or 
faith. The majority of the professors of 
Christianity are members of these different 
churches. But there are a few who cannot 
conscientiously accept either of these creeds, 
and yet who desire a church home, who, I 
might add, prefer the Bible as their only creed. 
And besides this there is a very apparent 
necessity of a closer affiliation and sympathy 
among the members of the different 
churches.” 

“You seem to be laboring under a false im- 
pression, Mr. Rule,” said Rev. Merlin, with an 
air of exaltation. 

“I shall thank you for the correction,” re- 
plied Mr. Rule, modestly. 

“You seem to think there is no church in 
this town that believes the Bible, judging from 
your remarks.” 

“If in my awkwardness I left such an im- 
pression, I beg your pardon, I am sure,” re- 


130 


HERBERT BROWN 


plied Mr. Rule. “What I wisht to say is, that 
each of the churches in this town has a creed, 
which it makes the test of admission, or of 
church fellowship, and that there are some 
who cannot accept either of those creeds, but 
who prefer to make the Bible the only test in 
such matters.” 

“You do not understand this matter,” re- 
plied Rev. Merlin. “These creeds are simply 
briefer and more convenient statements of 
the doctrines taught in the Bible.” 

“I do not wish to discuss that matter here,” 
said Mr. Rule, “as that is not the object of this 
meeting. We are confronted by facts sub- 
stantially as I have stated them, and we are 
met to consider them.” 

“But,” said Rev. Merlin, mistaking Mr. 
Rule’s modest reluctance to discuss the issue 
between them for acknowledged inability to 
do so, “when you understand these matters 
you will find that you are evading the only 
real vital question at issue. Whatever a man 
believes is his creed, and the best place to get 
it is the Bible, and (as I have said) that is 
where the churches have gotten them, and it 
is not likely you will be able to improve 
much on the combined effort of the wisest 
men of the past two thousand years.” 


THE FIRST CONFERENCE 


131 


“If I must reply to you, Rev. Merlin,” said 
Mr. Rule, with a calm decision which carried 
confidence with it, “I shall do it by asking you 
how it is possible that all these different 
church creeds are derived from the Bible, and 
yet many of them flatly contradict one another 
in various points ?” 

Rev. Merlin was entirely ignorant of the 
information and ability of the man he had 
forced to reply to him. Until the recent meet- 
ing he barely knew his name and face, and 
even now knew him only as an officer of the 
bank, and naturally supposed his ability con- 
fined to that profession. But he was quickly 
aroused from his mistaken impression by the 
pointed question put to him. Rev. Merlin 
started, opened his mouth as if to speak, then 
glanced nervously toward his fellow ministers, 
and then said, — 

“I am not called upon to speak for others, 
but as for myself, I can say that I am very 
well satisfied with the creed of my church ; — 
and if others are the same, that is, I think, suf- 
ficient.” 

All could but notice the discomfiture of the 
Methodist minister, but Mr. Rule, knowing 
that such discussion would only prevent the 
object he had in view, dropt it by saying, — 

“Let us return to the subject under con- 


132 


HERBERT BROWN 


sideration. Mr. Winnow, will you favor us 
with your opinion?” 

“Well,” said Mr. Winnow, in an easy, good- 
natured style, “I could tell you more about 
branding cattle. This is not in my line. The 
fact is I don’t know what my own church 
creed is. I don’t expect it’s smart, either, for 
me to be telling it here before our parson; — 
I may get ‘cut out’ at the next ‘round-up.’ We 
read our Bible some; that is, my wife does, 
and I listen to her, or pretend to; and we go 
to church; and I try to live kind of decent, 
except when the cattle-market goes wrong; 
and that’s about all the idea I have of religion. 
I have been wondering ever since I got here 
what I came here for. The fact is, I didn't 
want to come, but my wife brought me. If 
this assembly is in need of any information 
along the lines of round-ups or cattle brands 
or market reports, I shall be glad to tell you 
anything I know, but this is about the only 
line of theology I am much of an authority on. 
But,” continued Mr. Winnow, seriously, after 
a moment’s thoughtful pause, “I would like 
to say right here that I dislike this quarreling 
and fighting and back-biting among the 
churches, or rather among the members of 
the different churches, and anything that will 
put an end to it you may mark me down in 


THE FIRST CONFERENCE 


133 


favor of. Regarding the plan you mention, I 
suppose from the way the preachers talk it is 
impossible, or at least impractical; but as I 
understand it, it would be something like the 
tent meetings, and I can say that was the 
best meeting I ever attended in my life. Any- 
way, Mr. Rule, if it should be decided to build 
a house for union service, I will give some- 
thing toward it. As to starting another church 
here, while the town seems to be pretty well 
supplied, yet I think that those who may like 
another church better, have the same right to 
organize it that the other churches had to or- 
ganize; and if you do it I think I shall give a 
little something toward that just to show my 
good will. In fact,” he continued, turning 
toward the audience, “I think that any church 
that Mr. Rule might want to have built ought 
to get some support from the churches we al- 
ready have, for I guess he has given more 
than has any one else toward building them.” 

Mr. Winnow’s good-natured humor and his 
open, frank, practical remarks were most op- 
portune, and his little speech had an excellent 
effect upon the audience. Mr. Rule’s eyes 
twinkled with mirth at the amusing remarks 
of his old friend and customer; and several 
of the company laught aloud. 

“Mr. Brown,” said Mr. Rule. 


134 


HERBERT BROWN 


“I do not think my opinion in this matter 
would be worth much, but I should like to 
ask you a question,” responded Mr. Brown. 

“Certainly.” 

“If this plan should be carried out, and a 
church-house built, would it be just for the 
purpose of union services, or would it be your 
idea to organize another church?” 

“Both propositions are before us,” replied 
Mr. Rule. “I had thought that if all could 
agree to it, it would be well if all would 
drop their church creeds; that is, as tests of 
admission into the church, — of course they 
could hold them as individual opinions of the 
Bible, — and all unite in one body and one 
church.” 

“What would you make the basis of that 
church, and what the condition of member- 
ship?” 

“My idea would be to make the Bible the 
basis, and a belief in it the only condition of 
membership.” 

“I cannot say that I am favorable or un- 
favorable to such a plan, but I should like to 
ask the ministers present what objections 
there could be to it.” 

“If I wanted to knock the religion of this 
neighborhood in the head, I cannot think of a 
better way to do it,” said Rev. Merlin, his 


THE FIRST CONFERENCE 


135 


face becoming decidedly red. “Such a church, 
if we could cail it that, would be a wishy- 
washy, back-boneless affair, without principle, 
power or prestige. Am I not right, brethren ?” 
he added, turning toward the other ministers 
present. Both exprest their assent. 

“All that you have said may be true,” said 
Mr. Rule, “but you will pardon me for remind- 
ing you that you have furnisht us no proof of 
it.” 

“The proof is abundant,” replied Rev. Mer- 
lin, “and can be produced at the proper time.” 

“Suppose for the present we abandon the 
first proposition,” said Mr. Rule; “I should 
like an expression from those present on the 
second, which for convenience I will call 
church federation. I mean, the erection of a 
union building for union services.” 

Rev. Merlin nodded to Rev. Collins. 

“For my part,” said Rev. Collins, “it seems 
a pretty heavy burden to lay upon the 
churches of this community to require them 
to build such a house, especially for so little 
use, say one or two revival meetings a year. 
As to regular union services, I really can see 
no necessity for them, and for myself could 
not give the necessary time.” 

“May I ask you why you would not be will- 


136 


HERBERT BROWN 


ing to devote a small portion of your time 
to that?” askt Mr. Rule. 

“Well, in the first place, I am employed to 
look after the interests of the Presbyterian 
church in this place, and am supposed to de- 
vote my entire time to that; and in the second 
place, I can see no necessity for such services. 
Then I think the people would tire of going to 
so many services on Sunday, and would as a 
result slight some of them.” 

“Have any others anything to say?” askt 
Mr. Rule. 

No one spoke. After a short pause, Mr. 
Brown said, — 

“As for myself, I should like to think the 
matter over further, and consult again later.” 

“I think that probably best,” said Mr. Rule, 
and the company began to break up. 

Herbert and Theora were ready to start. 

“Herbert, I just today heard of your little 
experience in Miller’s ‘joint,’ and I want to 
congratulate you on your courage and man- 
hood,” said Mr. Rule, extending his hand. 

“I appreciate your congratulation, Mr. 
Rule; but in honesty I am compelled to inform 
you that you are congratulating the wrong 
fellow. Uncle Tim Griggs is the man that 
showed the courage.” 

“Well, Uncle Tim is the one that told me 


THE FIRST CONFERENCE 


137 


about it, and I guess he told it straight,” re- 
plied Mr. Rule, smiling. 

Rev. Merlin and Rev. Collins were walking 
down the street together, talking earnestly. 
It was the first time they had more than 
spoken since their unfortunate dispute on the 
street. The events of the evening had fur- 
nisht them matter of common interest, and 
caused them to forget all feeling against one 
another. 

“That would be one of the most ridiculous 
undertakings ever heard of,” said Rev. Merlin. 

“I think I know what is at the bottom of 
the whole affair/’ said Rev. Collins. 

“You do? What is it?” 

“I think young Brown is. I am really sur- 
prised as well as grieved at the course that 
young man is taking. I had always lookt 
upon him as altogether different from what 
he is recently proving himself to be. He is 
very presumptuous, not hesitating to place his 
own opinion against the opinion of the 
church.” 

“I discovered that this evening,” replied 
the other, “and also in a little conversation I 
had with him several Sundays ago at the resi- 
dence of Mr. Winnow. 

“He askt for a conference with me several 


138 


HERBERT BROWN 


evenings ago,” said Rev. Collins, “pretending 
that he wanted light on certain doctrines ; but 
when I began to explain them to him, I found 
that it was not light he wanted, but an oppor- 
tunity to display his wisdom, or rather what 
he mistook for wisdom. By the way, I did not 
like Mr. Winnow’s attitude this evening. I 
wouldn’t be surprised if that young man has 
been using his influence there. I think you 
should look after that family carefully.” 

“I assure you I shall take care of them,” 
replied Rev. Merlin, confidently; “and I would 
likewise caution you to look after the Brown 
family carefully.” 

“I shall call upon Bro. Brown tomorrow,” 
replied Rev. Collins. “I am not at all afraid of 
Sister Brown, for she is strong in the faith, but 
I am aware that Bro. Brown will require at- 
tention, and I shall see to it. In fact, until 
this little wind blows over, I think we should 
all watch our flocks carefully.” 

“I fully agree with you,” said the other, 
“and I think likely a little co-operation may 
prove mutually advantageous.” 

“No doubt. Might it not be well to men- 
tion the matter to Rev. Goodwin, as he was 
not there tonight?” 

“I think so,” said Rev. Merlin, “I will call 
on him in the morning. Good-night.” 


THE FIRST CONFERENCE 


139 


“Good-night, Brother Merlin.” 

The last of the company had gone. Mr. 
Rule was standing at the door, looking out in 
deep meditation. He turned and walkt once 
or twice across the room, and then, thrusting 
his hands into his pockets, he stopt suddenly 
in the middle of the room, and turned directly 
facing his wife, and said, — 

“I never before would have believed that 
the ministry of the nineteenth century con- 
tained so much downright cowardice, decep- 
tion and hypocrasy.” 


CHAPTER X. 

THE CRUSADE. 

“Who hath wounds without a cause?” — Prov. 23:29. 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Adams; I was just 
going to the crusade, and I wondered if you 
wouldn’t like to go along.” 

“Why, I hadn’t thought of it ; but I am sure 
if I can do any good I shall be glad to go. But 
I won’t have time to get ready, will I ? I shall 
have to comb my hair and change my dress.” 

“O yes, it is nearly half an hour yet before 
they meet at the church, and even if we do not 
get there until they are ready to start it will 
be all right. I shall be glad to wait for you. 
I knew you were interested, and thought you 
would go.” 

“O yes, I would do anything in my power 
against this awful business. You know what 
it has cost me, Mrs. Albert, — my husband, and 
now my poor dear boy, — and the careworn 
face was troubled, and the tired eyes lookt 
away into the distance, as they filled with 
tears. “Yes, I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” 
she added, as she went into the bedroom. 

140 


THE CRUSADE 


141 


Mrs. Albert glanced around the plain, poor- 
ly furnisht, tho clean, little room. She knew 
it was the best room in the house, and yet if 
her own kitchen were not a hundred times 
better finisht and furnisht she would be a very 
dissatisfied house-keeper. She thought, too, 
of how hard Mrs. Adams had to work, how 
shabbily she had to dress, of how little she 
sought society, or was sought by it; — and 
after all, the only object of her enduring and 
suffering all this, the only thing she seemed 
to live for, was a debaucht, worthless, and 
now hopeless drunkard. Her sad words were 
still ringing in Mrs. Albert’s ears, — “You 
know what it has cost me, Mrs. Albert, — my 
husband, and now my poor, dear boy.” Then 
she thought of her own handsome, convenient, 
comfortable, well-furnisht home, of her sober 
husband and children, of her rank in society. 
And then a shadow past over her handsome 
face, as she remembered how often she had 
clouded the light of her own home by spells 
of modiness or ill-temper, how often she had 
marred the happiness of her children by cross 
words, how often she had ruffled the feelings 
of her husband when she could have soothed 
them instead. She thought to herself, How 
grateful that poor woman would be for but 
one of the hundred blessings I have ! Ah ! the 


142 


HERBERT BROWN 


unbounded, almost unbearable, joy it would 
bring to her sad heart could she but have the 
assurance that her only boy, tho wreckt and 
almost ruined already by drink, would never 
again touch the vile stuff. She was roused 
from her sad musings by the re-entrance of 
Mrs. Adams. 

“Have I kept you waiting long?” askt Mrs. 
Adams, glancing at the little clock on the 
shelf; and then glancing at the pretty ruffles 
and the costly fabric of the handsomely fa- 
ting dress of her visitor, her eyes dropt invol- 
untarily to her own plain, tho neatly fitting 
calico dress, and she added, half ashamed, “I 
don’t expect this dress is hardly good enough 
to wear on such an occasion.” 

“O yes, it is,” replied the other, quickly, “it’s 
good enough for anybody,” and as she said it, 
somehow she felt in her heart a longing to 
throw her arms around the little woman and 
ask her forgiveness, — she knew not for what, 
but there was a strange feeling of guilt that 
clung to her, a feeling that she had some way 
wronged the little woman before her. 

“Well, I am ready,” said Mrs. Adams, and 
they walkt out into the street ; “will there be 
many in the crusade?” 

“I think there will be a goodly number to- 
day,” replied her companion. “Last Saturday 


THE CRUSADE 


143 


there was quite a falling off in the number, but 
Brother Merlin requested that each of us try 
to bring some one with us today, and I look 
for quite a number.” 

“By the way, where is Jake today?” askt 
Mrs. Albert, after walking some little distance 
in silence. 

“He is working at the Talbot Ranch ; at 
least, I think so. When he left early this 
morning, he said he was not sure they would 
want him, but if they didn’t he would be back, 
and he has not come back ; so I suppose he is 
working there.” 

“What a pity he didn’t go into the church; 
I believe he would have lived up to his profes- 
sion if he had.” 

“Yes, I think so too; I tried hard to get him 
into the church, but it seemed everything was 
against him,” answered Mrs. Adams, sadly. 

“Why, how was that, Mrs. Adams?” askt 
Mrs. Albert, with deep interest. 

“Well, Jake got turned against che 
churches; and then it seemed the more any 
one talkt to him about it the more he got 
turned against them.” 

“Against all of them?” 

“Well, yes; but mainly against the Presby- 
terian. You see, that was the one we thought 
most of joining.” 


144 


HERBERT BROWN 


“But if you couldn’t go into that, why not 
come into the Methodist? I think that would 
really be the best church for him, anyway, for 
it is very apparent that the Methodist church 
is the most openly opposed to the liquor busi- 
ness, which would naturally make it a better 
and safer place for him. Brother Merlin says 
that the Methodist church is everywhere the 
most openly opposed to the saloon.” 

“Well, we didn’t know what to do. I tried 
to do the best I could. Some told me one 
thing and some another. But it’s too late 
now,” and a deeply troubled expression came 
over her face, as they entered the Methodist 
church. 

Only a few were present, but by the time 
appointed for the meeting, half past two 
o’clock, there were about twelve or fifteen 
women and the Methodist pastor, who was 
the only man present. A temperance song 
was sung. The minister then read a portion 
of the twenty-third chapter of Proverbs. He 
then made a short address, in which he spoke 
enthusiastically upon the important work of 
the “Crusade,” and dwelt at some length upon 
the great sacrifice and bravery of the cru- 
saders. He closed the meeting with a short 
prayer, after which the company formed into 
line, two abreast, and marcht out of the build- 


THE CRUSADE 


145 


in g and down the side-walk. The windows of 
the first “joint” they reacht on their route 
were curtained, and a sour, sickening smell of 
beer greeted their nostrils as they approacht. 
Without halting they walkt in. Rev. Merlin 
stept up boldly and dignifiedly before the pro- 
prietor, a small, one-eyed, measly looking 
specimen of humanity, and said loud enough 
to be heard by all, — 

“My friend, we should like to hold a short 
service here, by your permission.” 

“All right, parson,” responded the other, 
grinning and winking at the men at the bar. 

A temperance song was sung, and the min- 
ister led in a long and fervent prayer, at in- 
tervals of which the women responded with 
“amens.” On account of so much filth and 
spittle on the floor, the crusaders stood during 
the prayer. Two or three of the roughest 
young fellows joined in hearty “amens” with 
the crusaders, much to the merriment of the 
others. The prayer ended, the crusaders filed 
out in the same order they had entered. 

The next place they visited was “Bill” Mil- 
lers place, with which the reader is already 
familiar. This “joint” was located in the mid- 
dle of a block, on one corner of which was the 
First National Bank, and on the other corner 
Mr. Brown's fine general store. Just as the 


146 


HERBERT BROWN 


company past the bank they met Herbert 
Brown, who was going in to deposit the day’s 
receipts. He lifted his hat and spoke pleas- 
antly to the different members of the company 
as he past. As they approacht the “joint” 
they heard much loud talking and laughing. 
Miller’s place was known to be the leading 
saloon in the town, and did more business than 
the other two combined. Owing to the nar- 
rowness of the door, the crusaders entered 
single file, and when their leader reacht the 
counter opposite the burly proprietor, not 
more than half the company were yet inside. 
Mrs. Adams, who had been assigned a posi- 
tion at the extreme rear of the line of march, 
did not enter until after the leader had an- 
nounced their business, which he did in about 
the same words as before. Half a dozen men 
were at the bar, and their glasses were just 
being filled. On previous occasions, Miller 
had treated the crusaders with more than his 
usual courtesy. In fact, as he had several 
times remarkt, he had been enjoying their 
visits. But it was becoming a little old; and 
then, too, it was contrary to his nature to 
allow anyone to assume even apparent au- 
thority over him, which the demeanor and 
tone of the minister suggested. And so, as- 
suming an affected indifference, he replied, — 


THE CRUSADE 


147 


“Jest wait a little bit, parson, till these 
men are through ; then ye kin have a few min- 
utes' fur yer meetin’.” 

“Very well,” replied the minister, stepping 
back, somewhat abasht, while the other mem- 
bers of the company were collecting around 
him. 

At least a part of those at the bar were al- 
ready much under the influence of liquor. 
There was among them a familiar face; but it 
seemed that none of them, not even the min- 
ister, who was a moment ago very close to 
them, recognized it. The glasses were filled, 
and the drinkers were just reaching to take 
them, when Mrs. Adams reacht the line of the 
crusaders. She was looking toward the men 
at the bar. Suddenly her eyes flasht, her face 
became wild, and extending her arms she 
rusht with a wild scream toward the bar. It 
was the first time in her life she had seen 
Jake taking a drink of liquor. She thought he 
was out of town today, and the unexpected 
sight of him, the drunkest in that drunken 
group of men, reaching for a glass of that 
hellish liquid, had maddened her almost be- 
yond control. 

“You fiend, that would ruin my boy!” she 
cried, rushing forward and seizing Jake and 
trying to push him back from the bar, while 


148 


HERBERT BROWN 


with one quick stroke she sent glasses, pitcher 
and beer all rattling, splashing, crashing 
across the floor. 

For an instant all stood spell-bound, except 
Mrs. Adams, who was frantically trying to 
drag her drunken boy away from the bar. 
But it was only an instant until “Bill” Miller 
realized what had happened, and indignant 
rage seized him. 

“D — n you,” he shouted, as he leapt over 
the bar, and, seizing the frail little woman by 
the shoulders, started with her toward the 
door. She struggled frantically to free her- 
self from the powerful grip of the giant. Sev- 
eral of the women started to her rescue, but 
Rev. Merlin stept quickly before them and put 
out his hand, partly to hold them back and 
partly as a gesture of command. The enraged 
“joint”-keeper, mistaking the minister’s ef- 
forts to keep back the members of his com- 
pany for an attempt to interfere, suddenly 
losed the grip of his right hand on the little, 
helpless woman, and holding her in the clutch 
of his left, turned quickly facing the minister, 
his clencht right hand drawn back in readi- 
ness to strike. 

“Stand back, you d — d hypocrite !” he 
shouted. Rev. Merlin stept back quickly to 
avoid the expected blow. 


THE CRUSADE 


149 


“I beg your pardon,” said the minister, con- 
siderably confused. “I was only preventing 
others from interfering. I assure you it was 
no part of our plan to destroy your property, 
and I am truly sorry it has happened.” 

The big saloon-keeper did not wait to hear 
the explanation, but before the minister had 
finisht his apology, he had roughly rusht the 
offender out of the building and let her go 
with a shove that sent her light form almost 
off the sidewalk. As they burst suddenly out 
of the door onto the sidewalk, they barely 
escaped a collision with Herbert Brown, who 
was just returning from the bank, walking 
rapidly. Herbert stopt suddenly and shrunk 
back to avoid the collision. When the angry 
brute let go of his helpless victim, he was 
standing directly in front of Herbert. Their 
eyes met and fixt upon each other. The same 
feeling that had overwhelmed him a few even- 
ings ago as he stood facing the bully in his joint 
seized Herbert Brown, and the scene he had 
just witnest of the big ruffian, of more than 
two hundred pounds, so roughly and rudely 
thrusting out the frail little woman, who 
would have weighed barely half as much, had 
only intensified that feeling, and maddened 
him. Like a flash, the strong right hand of 
Herbert was drawn to his shoulder, and with 


150 


HERBERT BROWN 


the swiftness almost of a bullet and the weight 
of a sledge-hammer it went straight to the jaw 
of the bully. Miller, who had not had time 
fully to turn fronting his antagonist, went back- 
ward under the heavy blow, tript and fell. He 
caught himself on his hand and sprang to his 
feet, fairly shouting oaths and imprecations, 
and rusht at his foe. Herbert had not moved 
from his position. Tho he was much lighter 
than his opponent, yet he was by no means a 
small man, for his weight was over a hundred 
and seventy pounds, and every pound of flesh 
in him was muscle, and every ounce of his 
heart was courage, and at that moment he 
was every inch the fighter. Tho indignant 
and fiercely angry, yet his thoughts were 
never clearer. He realized that his advanc- 
ing enemy was almost a giant in both weight 
and strength, and that fighting was a part 
of his business. Tho Herbert Brown had 
never before struck a man in rage, 
yet he was by no means unacquainted with 
the “manly art”; and now he watcht every 
movement of his advancing opponent. Miller 
rusht at him with the fury of an enraged beast, 
and the instant he was within reach struck 
with his powerful right hand straight at the 
face of Herbert with a force sufficient to bring 
down a much heavier man than the one before 



HERBERT’S LEFT HAND SWUNG WITH A FEARFUL SWIFTNESS, AND LANDED WITH A CRASHING BLOW 

ON THE POINT OF THE RUFFIAN’S JAW. 


















































































































































THE CRUSADE 


151 


him. Herbert’s quick ready left hand caught 
the blow of his enemy and carried it from its 
course, and the bully’s swift hand past to the 
left of Herbert’s face and over his shoulder. 
At the same instant Herbert sent his clenched 
right hand with even greater force than be- 
fore straight to the unguarded face of the 
bully. The blood spurted from the mouth and 
nose, and the big ruffian staggered backward. 
Before he had time to regain himself, Her- 
bert’s left hand swung with a fearful swiftness 
and landed with a crashing blow on the point 
of the ruffian’s jaw, and the big form of Bill 
Miller went backward, and fell at full length 
and heavily upon the walk. Herbert followed, 
and now stood waiting for his enemy to rise. 
But by this time a crowd had collected, and 
as the bully rose, cursing, a number of men 
caught him, and others laid hold of Herbert. 

“You needn’t hold me,” said Herbert, “he 
has only to keep his distance. It is a busy 
day at the store, and if I am not longer needed 
here I will be going.” 

Bill Miller, bleeding, panting, swearing, 
struggling, was led back into his “joint.” 


CHAPTER XI. 

A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. 

“Receive ye one another as Christ also received us, to 
the glory of God.” — Rom. 15:7. 

Ding-dong, ding-dong, pisch-h-h-h-h, and 
“Number 4” stopt at the depot at Sandpre. 
Herbert Brown, looking in at the car windows, 
saw that the coaches were crowded. About 
as many got on as off; and as many of those 
getting on were ladies, Herbert waited until 
the others were on before he entered the car. 
He was starting to St. Louis to buy goods for 
the store. This was his first trip for this pur- 
pose alone, tho in company with his father he 
had made one such trip before. Herbert walkt 
along the aisle looking for a seat, but found 
none until he had nearly reacht the other 
end of the car. The seat by the side of the 
vacant one and next the window was occu- 
pied by a young man apparently twenty-five 
or thirty years of age, tall and rather slender, 
jet-black hair, and drest in a suit of black. 
His arm rested on the window sill, and in his 
hand he held an open Bible, in the reading of 

152 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 


153 


which he seemed deeply interested. Herbert 
hesitated to interrupt him, and lookt on 
toward the end of the car to see if there were 
not another seat, but saw none. 

“Excuse me,” said Herbert; “is this seat 
taken?” 

The one addrest lookt up quickly, turning 
to Herbert a smooth-shaven face of extraor- 
dinary intelligence. The dark eyes, tho gen- 
tle, were piercing, and the mouth and the lines 
about it indicated the orator. There was in 
the face a courteousness combined with a 
positive, fearless expression, which especially 
attracted Herbert’s attention. 

“I think not. There was a gentleman oc- 
cupying it, but I think he got off at the last 
station.” The voice was a clear, strong silver 
tone, and had that peculiar attribute of carry- 
ing with it a conviction of the honesty of the 
speaker. He spoke with an open frankness 
that to Herbert was very pleasing. 

“The train is considerably crowded,” said 
Herbert. 

“Yes,” replied his companion; “it seems 
that at each stop about as many get on as off. 
That was Sandpre we just past, was it not?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Is that your home?” 

“Yes, sir.” 


154 


HERBERT BROWN 


“I noticed from the papers, you had quite a 
revival there last fall.” 

“Yes, we had a good meeting.” 

“Rev. Greedor, I think, was the evangelist?” 

“Yes, sir; are you acquainted with him?” 

“I have met him once. He conducted a 
very successful meeting in my town about a 
year ago.” 

“How did you like him ?” 

“Very well; only I do not like his financial 
system. He is making a fortune out of the 
ministry. I do not think a minister has either 
a moral or a scriptural right to take more than 
a reasonable compensation for his services. 
He held a three weeks' meeting in our town, 
and received nearly a thousand dollars.” 

“What do you consider his chief element of 
success?” askt Herbert. 

“Well, he is a man of considerable ability, 
tho I do not think pre-eminent; but I think 
his chief element of success is his having no 
church relation, or, if he has, keeping it un- 
known. Such men as he are reaping a rich 
financial harvest from the sowing of sectarian- 
ism. How many churches have you in your 
town?” 

“Five; that is, four besides the Catholic, 
which took no part in the meeting.” 

“May I ask you what denominations?” 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 


155 


“The Methodist, the Presbyterian, the Bap- 
tist and the United Brethren.” 

“If I am not too inquisitive, may I ask you 
if you are a member of either of them ?” 

“Yes, — or — or — yes,” said Herbert. He had 
no desire whatever to hide anything, but the 
question came so unexpectedly that he was 
conscious he had answered very awkwardly, 
and in spite of himself he felt the color coming 
to his face. 

His questioner lookt at him with a puzzled 
expression, the slightest smile of amusement 
playing about his mouth. Herbert was half 
angry at himself, for he could not imagine why 
he should have answered in such a manner. 
Why didn’t he say yes, and stop? 

“I see you are amused at my awkward an- 
swer,” said Herbert, “and I suppose I shall 
have to explain. I was converted during the 
meeting of which you inquire. I joined a 
church before I knew its doctrine, and, since 
I have learned it find I cannot accept it, and 
so expect to withdraw from it. Tho I am still 
nominally a member, I can hardly say I am 
really.” 

“I see,” said his companion; “and now that 
my curiosity is aroused, if you do not object 
to questions, I wish to ask you a few more.” 


156 


HERBERT BROWN 


“I am sure I have no objections,” replied 
Herbert. “Go on.” 

“I should like to ask you what church you 
are, or were, a member of?” 

“The Presbyterian.” 

“If you leave it, what church will you join?” 

“That, I do not know.” 

“Will it be one of the other churches in 
your town?” 

“No; I cannot conscientiously join any of 
them.” 

“Why?” 

“I do not believe any of their creeds, and 
even if I did I would not join them.” 

“What church would you join, if it were 
convenient ?” 

“I never heard of one that I would join, tho 
there may be such.” 

Herbert’s companion became interested, 
and closing his Bible, laid it on his knee, and 
turned partly facing him. 

“May I ask you what kind of a church would 
suit you?” 

“Well, if I should tell you, it would no doubt 
seem to you ridiculous, as it has seemed to 
other ministers, to whom I have told it. I am 
assuming that you are a minister?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“My idea is that there ought to be only one 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 


157 


church, and that it should be so organized 
and governed as to include all Christians.” 

“What would be the creed of such a 
church ?” 

“The book you have there,” replied Her- 
bert, pointing to the Bible. 

“I am certainly glad to meet one holding 
your views, more especially since you have 
reacht them independently, and in spite of 
strong, adverse influences,” said Herbert’s 
companion, extending his hand. - “My name is 
Powers, — Oscar Powers.” 

“My name is Herbert Brown,” replied Her- 
bert, taking the proffered hand. “May I ask 
you of what church you are a minister?” 

“I am pastor of a church at Golden.” 

“I mean, of what denomination are you?” 
askt Herbert. 

“I was until recently a member of the 
Methodist Episcopal Church, but am at pres- 
ent a member of no recognized denomina- 
tion.” 

“I judge you have had an interesting expe- 
rience, Rev. Powers,” said Herbert, much in- 
terested; “would you object to relating it?” 

“It has not been so interesting, probably, 
but to me it has been a very trying experience. 
I hardly know where to begin,” said the young 
minister, thoughtfully. 


158 


HERBERT BROWN 


“I should like to hear it all,” said Herbert. 
“Begin at the first.” 

“Well, I was one that was born into* the 
church,” said the minister; “that is, my par- 
ents were Methodists, and I was baptized, as 
they called it, — though in fact simply sprink- 
led, when I was an infant, and received into 
full membership when I was a child. I was 
not converted, however, until I was twenty- 
one years old, after I had taken a course in 
college in preparation for my chosen profes- 
sion. After I was converted, I felt it was my 
duty to preach; and I went back to college 
for two years longer to fit myself for the min- 
istry. I did some preaching while attending 
college, and the third year after I left college 
I was assigned to the pastorate of the church 
at Golden, a strong church of over three hun- 
dred members, with a salary of eight hundred 
dollars. But from the time I began studying 
for the ministry, I found things in the doc- 
trines of the church that I did not believe were 
warranted by Scripture. I took the matter to 
the presiding elder, and he advised me to let 
those things alone and go on preaching the 
Gospel, remarking that the mission of the 
Methodist church was the winning of souls 
rather than the teaching of doctrines. My pro- 
fessor of New Testament Greek gave me the 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 


159 


same advice, and even acknowledged that he 
did not believe all the doctrines of his church. 
Well, that, after a manner, satisfied me, and I 
suppose that, had it not been for circum- 
stances that occurred in my church a little 
over a year ago, I should today, like the ma- 
jority of the ministers in that and other creed 
churches, be using my efforts to build up a 
church whose creed I believed to be contrary 
to the Bible I was preaching.” 

“Do you really think, Rev. Powers, that the 
ministers in those churches do not believe 
their creeds?” askt Herbert, in surprise. 

“I positively know that many do not.” 

“I do not see how they could preach effec- 
tively,” said Herbert; “it seems to me they 
would carry a sort of feeling of guilt.” 

“They do, and it is impossible for them to 
preach so effectively. That greatest of all 
the speaker’s forces is gone — the power of 
honest conviction.” 

“What were the circumstances that oc- 
curred in your church, to which you refer, 
Rev. Powers?” 

“Well, the first year after I took charge of 
the church at Golden, I held a month’s revival 
meeting, and the Lord blest the efforts won- 
derfully, for there were over a hundred and 
fifty converts. Most of the younger converts 


160 


HERBERT BROWN 


came promptly into the church ; that is, were 
received on probation, and some went into 
other churches in the town; but there were 
among the converts a number of men and 
women of middle age or past, among them 
business men and others of education and 
ability, who required to know what the church 
stood for before uniting with it. I was called 
upon to explain to them the doctrines of the 
church. Many questions were askt me, some 
of them regarding the very doctrines I did 
not believe were warranted by Scripture? I 
was askt by one very intelligent man why, if 
I considered these doctrines essential, I did 
not preach them during the revival. I was in 
a dilemma; on the one hand I dare not ac- 
knowledge my disbelief in the creed of my 
church, as that would be inconsistent with my 
position; and on the other hand I was deter- 
mined not to tell those seeking the truth a 
falsehood. I went to my room. I scarcely 
left it during the week. I spent the week in 
meditation, in searching the Scriptures and in 
prayer. That was the darkest week in my ex- 
perience. I fought in that room alone the 
hardest battle of my life. On the one hand 
were duty, truth, honesty of conviction; on 
the other were position, salary, esteem of my 
brother ministers, my family and my friends, 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 161 

and consistency of life before the world. At 
one time I resolved to make an open confes- 
sion before my congregation ; but censuring 
look of my members, my next visit to my old 
home, a heresy trial, the condemnation of my 
brother ministers, and the inconsistency of my 
life stood up before me like a threatening, 
hideous monster, and I trembled and shrunk 
back. Again I thought of dismissing the 
whole matter and going on as I had been do- 
ing, but my conscience stood up before me like 
a prophet of God and pointed the finger of 
judgment into my face and denounced me as 
a deceiver and a liar, and threatened me wjth 
no more comfort or peace of mind. And again 
I determined to resign my position and quit 
the ministry, but my conscience denounced 
me as a coward, and the cloud that had set- 
tled over me became only the blacker. The 
only counselors I had were my conscience, my 
God and the Bible, and they seemed all against 
me. I knew there must be something wrong 
with the church that could not furnish a home 
for its converts. I kept asking myself the 
question: Would Christ be pastor of such a 
church? What would He do in my place? 
And the answer seemed to come back the 
same every time — and I would start as if to 
follow, and then I would tremble and shrink 


162 


HERBERT BROWN 


back for lack of courage. The week had past 
thus. The lady with whom I was boarding 
had very kindly tried to tempt my appetite 
with delicate dishes, but I had eaten very lit- 
tle and slept very little. I had not gone down 
to dinner at all. It was Saturday afternoon, 
and I was tired and exhausted under the bur- 
den that had been upon me, and lay on my 
couch in my room, deprest, discouraged. I 
had prepared no discourse for the morrow. In 
my condition of mind it was impossible. To 
go before my audience tomorrow (I knew the 
house would be full to overflowing) and un- 
burden my soul by a full, open and complete 
confession — I could not do it; and to go into 
the pulpit and try to deliver another sermon 
without it seemed to me the blackest crime. 
No felon ever lay in his cell awaiting his exe- 
cution with gloomier forebodings, a sadder 
heart or more downcast spirits than I lay 
there awaiting the coming of the next Sabbath 
day. From the depths of my anguish I cried 
out, “O my God, deliver me from these bonds 
and let me go!” and immediately there came 
the answer, “The truth shall make you free,” 
and it lighted up my soul — it was a light from 
heaven breaking in upon the blackest night. 
It seemed to me that the very room was light- 
ed up, and I sprang up from my couch ready 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 


163 


to shout for joy, but instead I fell upon my 
knees and offered thanks. That dark week 
of travail had brought forth liberty of con- 
science, and with it courage of conviction,” the 
minister paused, a tear glistening in his eye. 
Herbert had listened with rapt attention. 

“You certainly had a remarkable and very 
trying experience, Rev. Powers,” said Her- 
bert. 

“I account that week the most important 
and valuable in all my life, and I would not 
take all the world for that experience.” 

“But how about your sermon, and what fol- 
lowed?” askt Herbert. 

“Well, I never prepared a sermon so easily 
as I did that. I never had Scripture come to 
my mind so readily. When I went before my 
audience the next morning, the house was 
crowded to overflowing, for the interest was 
great just after the meeting we had had, but 
when I lookt into the expectant faces of the 
crowd the Tempter again stood before me, and 
for a moment my courage failed; and for the 
first time in my life I knelt down upon the 
platform in silent prayer before my audience, 
and when I rose the Tempter was gone. I 
made a clean breast of the whole matter, and 
as I made my confessioa before that large 
audience it seemed that almost every eye was 


164 


HERBERT BROWN 


wet with tears of sympathy, and when I had 
sat down, so great was the surprise that they 
sat like they were spell-bound, and when I 
turned to the choir and told them to sing, the 
organist started like one awakened from a 
dream. I askt them to consider the matter 
until the evening service, when I should speak 
again of the same subject. And after the even- 
ing service, I askt for a business meeting the 
next afternoon. It was largely attended, not 
only by my own congregation, but by numbers 
from other churches as well. To my utter 
surprise, it seemed that there was no dissen- 
sion at all in my congregation. I had put the 
proposition by asking whether we should hold 
to these old man-made doctrines that were 
shutting out many of the souls that had been 
converted in answer to our prayers, or should 
we cast them to the winds and lay hold upon 
the Word of God, which all could accept and 
believe, and thus offer a home to all that had 
accepted Christ. Inasmuch as the church at 
that place had been built exclusively from 
funds raised in the community, it was thought 
but fair that we request that the new organi- 
zation be allowed to retain it, and I was au- 
thorized to write the presiding elder regard- 
ing the matter. The result was the presiding 
elder came by the first train. It was Dr. 


A NEW ACQUAINTANCE 


165 


Windfelt, the same minister to whom I had 
confest my lack of faith in the creed of the 
.church when I had first begun studying for 
the ministry. He first tried moral suasion by 
pointing out to me the great opportunities 
there were in the great church I was leaving, 
and reminding me of the loss of friends and 
opportunity my course would entail. Finding 
that would not accomplish his end, he resort- 
ed to threats, and finally ended by canceling 
my pastorate. He arrived on Wednesday, and 
that evening took charge of the prayer meet- 
ing, and announced that he would fill the pul- 
pit the next Sabbath. To be brief, the result 
was that with the combined effort of the pre- 
siding elder and a bishop all but about one 
hundred of the members and quite a number 
of the new converts were held in the Metho- 
dist church; but with them and a few from 
the other churches I went ahead and organ- 
ized an independent church, with the Bible as 
our only creed, and Christ as our only head; 
and we have now completed a new building. 
Of course I was denounced as an heretic and 
a traiter, etc. ; but I feel that if either title be- 
longed to me, it was before and not after this 
action.” 

‘‘‘You ought to put that story into print, 
Rev. Powers; it would read like a romance, 


166 


HERBERT BROWN 


" and then it is information that the world ought 
to have. I suppose you have not so strong a 
church as you had before you left the Metho- 
dist ?” 

“O, no; tho we have now a membership of 
nearly two hundred.” 

Herbert Brown and Rev. Powers contin- 
ued in the most interested conversation. Her- 
bert told him of their little conference at 
Sandpre, and of their other experiences. They 
did not realize that the train had sped over 
about seventy-five miles of smooth track until 
it suddenly blew a loud, long whistle, and the 
minister, glancing quickly out of the window, 
said : 

“That’s for my home,” at the same time 
reaching for his valise. 

“Rev. Powers, would it be possible for you 
to visit our town in the near future? I should 
like to have you meet some of our people, 
especially Mr. Rule.” 

“Why, yes; I could visit you most any time 
that did not conflict with my regular appoint- 
ments,” answered the minister, as they stept 
off the train onto the platform. 

“Then I should like for you to visit us next 
Monday evening. That is the time of our next 
conference, and I should like for you to meet 


A NEW' ACQUAINTANCE 


167 


with us. I will write you regarding it as soon 
as I get back home, but I am sure we shall 
want you to meet with us.” 

“A-l-1-1-11 ab-o-o-ord,” shouted the con- 
ductor. 

“Rev. Powers,” said Herbert, turning and 
grasping his hand warmly, “I cannot express 
to you the pleasure and benefit I have received 
by this short and accidental acquaintance.” 

“Thank you,” responded the minister earn- 
estly, “and I can assure you that your experi- 
ence has been food to my soul and a new in- 
spiration to me. I trust you will have a pleas- 
ant and profitable journey. Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye, Rev. Powers,” said Herbert, as 
he sprang lightly upon the step of the moving 
car. 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE SECOND CONFERENCE. 

“Every one of you saith, I am of Paul, and I of Apollos, 
and I of Cephas, and I of Christ. Is Christ divided?” — 
I Cor. i :i 2, 13. 

“Well, are you ready to go to the ecumeni- 
cal council,” askt Rev. Merlin, laughing, as 
the door of the Presbyterian parsonage 
opened in response to his knock. 

“Just as soon as I get my hat and coat,” re- 
plied Rev. Collins, laughing in turn at the wit 
of his brother minister. “Will you come in?” 

“O no, thanks ; I’ll wait here.” 

“I think the proper thing to do is to nip this 
thing in the bud; and if I have opportunity 
this evening, I think I shall express myself in 
no uncertain terms,” said Rev. Collins, turn- 
ing his coat collar up to protect his neck and 
ears against the sharp, frosty air. 

“I have regretted since the last meeting,” 
replied the other, “that I did not speak more 
pointedly and emphatically against this thing. 
Why, it’s heresy, Brother Collins, heresy! 
nothing but heresy! They may call it what 
they will, but it’s heresy just the same!” 

“Of course it's heresy, of the worst sort. If 

denying the orthodox faith is not heresy, what 
168 


THE SECOND CONFERENCE 


169 


is heresy? That is just what I told Brother 
Brown’s family yesterday, and that is just 
what I called it — heresy” 

“How did you find Mr. Brown’s family?” 

“Well, Herbert, of course, is hopeless, and I 
was very glad he was not at home when I 
called. Brother Brown is reserved, but I think 
Sister Brown is sound. I made matters very 
clear, and shall trust the Lord for results.” 

“I find I have a pretty serious case on my 
hands at Brother Winnow’s,” said Rev. Mer- 
lin. 

“Mr. Winnow, I suppose?” 

“Well, no; Brother Winnow will not leave 
his wife, and I feel pretty sure of her stability. 
Their daughter, Theora, is a far more serious 
case.” 

“There is some more of the poisoning in- 
fluence of the heretical views of that young 
man,” said Rev. Collins, with an emphatic 
gesture of the hand. “What a shame that she 
should be led astray, for Theora Winnow is 
certainly a jewel.” 

“You are exactly right; and I assure you 
that I talkt to her very pointedly in the mat- 
ter. I told her plainly in the presence of her 
mother that it was her duty as a Christian to 
sever her engagement with that young man, 
and ‘be not unequally yoked together with un- 


170 


HERBERT BROWN 


believers’ ; that if he cared more for his hereti- 
cal views than he did for her, he was not 
worthy of her; and that there was not a shad- 
ow of a question as to her duty in the matter. 
I think my words reacht their mark, too, for 
I left her crying.” 

“I trust so, and that good may result,” said 
Rev. Collins, as they stept up to the door of 
Mr. Rule’s residence. 

“Good-evening, good-evening,” said Mr. 
Rule, bowing to each of the ministers in turn, 
as they entered; and placing his hand on the 
arm of Rev. Collins, who was in advance, he 
conducted him across the room (Rev. Merlin 
following) to where Rev. Powers was seated. 

“Rev. Powers, allow me to introduce to you 
Rev. Collins, the pastor of the Presbyterian 
church. Rev. Powers is a Christian minis- 
ter.” 

“I am glad to meet you, Rev. Powers,” said 
the Presbyterian pastor, bowing and extend- 
ing his hand. 

“Thank you,” responded the other, taking 
the offered hand. 

“And Rev. Merlin, the pastor of the M. E. 
church, Rev. Powers,” said Mr. Rule. 

“Rev. Merlin, I am pleased to form your 
acquaintance.” 

“And I am glad to meet you, Mr. Powers.” 


THE SECOND CONFERENCE 


171 


“I will just say,” said Mr. Rule, after the 
ministers were seated, “that we had begun 
discussing the subject for consideration. In 
order that there might be no confusion or mis- 
understanding we have decided to discuss 
first the subject of Christian union, or of one 
church. Rev. Bailey was speaking, and will 
now proceed.” 

“As I was just saying,” said Rev. Bailey, “I 
do not intend to throw anything in the way of 
this move. My church is not strong enough 
to support a pastor. My term will be out in 
a short time, and I have engaged to go else- 
where, and I shall be very glad for the sake 
of the members of my charge here if some 
such arrangements can be made. When the 
plan was first suggested, at the other meeting 
here, I thought I was opposed to it, but after 
thinking it over and talking it over with some 
of our members, I feel more favorably in- 
clined; and should the plan be carried out, I 
think I shall advise my church to go into it.” 

“I think,” said Rev. Merlin, emphatically, 
“that you would do a far better part by your 
church, Brother Bailey, by advising them to 
go into some orthodox church that has some 
standing, and knows what it stands for; I 
think I understand this whole scheme, includ- 
ing the presence of this young brother,” con- 


172 


HERBERT BROWN 


tinued Rev. Merlin, with a wave of his hand 
and a condescending nod toward Rev. Pow- 
ers. “It is simply an attempt to organize an- 
other church here, and all this union talk is 
for no other purpose than to proselyte. If 
there are two or three here who cannot wor- 
ship in an orthodox church let them get off to 
themselves and form a little society of their 
own, but not try to proselyte from the ortho- 
dox churches.” 

Rev. Merlin’s remarks created a perceptible 
stir. Rev. Powers listened attentively to 
every word, but did not by his features or 
otherwise show approval or disapproval. 
Even the personal reference of the Methodist 
minister received no response in his features, 
unless it may have been the slightest shade of 
coloring in his face for an instant. 

“I wish to assure all present,” said Mr. 
Rule, “that there is no scheme whatever, and 
that there are no plans of which I am aware 
further than those that have been discust 
at these meetings.” 

“It seems to me,” said Herbert Brown, in- 
dignantly, glancing at the Methodist pastor, 
“that the rules of common courtesy would for- 
bid insinuations toward a visiting minister un- 
til there were at least some grounds for them. 
Rev. Powers is here at my own solicitation, 


THE SECOND CONFERENCE 


173 


and, if his presence is a crime, the guilt is 
mine, not his. I accidentally fell into his com- 
pany, and learned that he had recently had an 
experience along exactly the same lines we are 
working here, and I should like to have him 
relate his experience.” 

“I know all will be pleased and profited if 
you will favor us with an account of your ex- 
perience, Rev. Powers,” said Mr. Rule. 

Rev. Powers recited the account of his ex- 
perience in substance as he had related it to 
Herbert on the train, omitting only the part 
that related to his own personal experience 
and not mentioning the presiding elder’s 
name. He spoke in a clear, full, silver tone, 
unaffected and charming. He had the rapt 
attention of his hearers. As he proceeded, 
Rev. Merlin’s face colored deeply, and he be- 
came restless. Once or twice during the nar- 
ration his lips parted as if to interrupt the 
speaker. 

“I know all about you, young man,” said 
Rev. Merlin, as soon as the visiting minister 
had closed, “and I am happy to be in a posi- 
tion to warn this people and community 
against you and against your heretical doc- 
trines. Dr. Windfelt, a presiding elder of the 
Methodist church, has told me all about you. 
He branded you both traitor and heretic, and 


174 


HERBERT BROWN 


I have no reason to question his judgment.” 

“Dr. Windfelt is in an excellent position to 
know whereof he speaks,” replied the other, 
with a calmness and self control that to the 
Methodist pastor was provoking and to the 
rest of the audience admirable ; “for he is the 
one that deposed me at Golden, and also the 
one to whom I went, when I first began to 
study for the ministry, for advice regarding 
the doctrines of the church that I failed to find 
in the Bible, and it was he that advised me to 
remain in the church and to pay no attention 
to those things.” 

“Why were you in the Methodist church if 
you didn’t believe its doctrines?” askt the 
Methodist minister, fiercely. 

“I shall be pleased to answer your question 
twice, Rev. Merlin. I would answer it first by 
saying that, like the great majority of the 
members of that church, I was born into it. 
My parents were members, and when I was 
an infant I was sprinkled, and was taught 
afterward that I had been baptized; and while 
I was a child too young to understand what 
the doctrines meant, I was taught to answer 
‘yes’ to the questions askt me, and I was re- 
ceived into the church. I will again answer 
your question by asking you a question : Why 


THE SECOND CONFERENCE 175 

do you hold a creed that will bar Christians 
from membership ?” 

“I am not aware than any Christians have 
ever been barred from membership in the 
Methodist church.” 

“Then how about your presiding elder, who 
advised me to remain in the church when he 
knew that I did not believe its doctrines? Was 
he advising one whom he knew was not a 
Christian to remain in the church? The pro- 
fessor of New Testament Greek, to whom I 
referred a moment ago, acknowledged to me 
that the Bible contradicted the Methodist 
mode of baptism, that it nowhere taught the 
doctrine of ‘Probation’, and that he did not 
believe the doctrine of the ‘Trinity’ as set 
forth in the Methodist ‘Articles of Religion’. 
He is now a bishop in your church. Do you 
want us to believe that some of your bishops 
are not Christians?” 

“I have no reason to believe the statements 
you are making are true,” said Rev. Merlin, 
pugnaciously. “It will be time enough to con- 
sider that matter after evidence of their truth 
has been produced.” 

“I acknowledge your ground is well taken, 
and I concede the point,” replied Rev. Pow- 
ers, with a composure that was not less irri- 
tating to the high spirits of Herbert than to 


176 


HERBERT BROWN 


the Methodist minister; “and I shall offer an- 
other consideration, that is in no way depend- 
ent upon my veracity, by asking you if you be- 
lieve there are no Christians in other churches 
than the Methodist; such as, the Presbyte- 
rian, the Baptist, etc.?” 

“Tho your question is too absurd for notice, 
I will answer it; most assuredly I do.” 

“You grant that the creeds of these differ- 
ent churches are different?” 

“In some points they differ, certainly.” re- 
plied the Methodist minister, with an air of 
scornful condescension. 

“You will concede, for example, that one 
could not at the same time believe the Metho- 
dist ‘Articles’ and the Presbyterian ‘Confes- 
sion’, will you not?” 

“I will concede that in certain minor doc- 
trines they differ, but they both hold the or- 
thodox faith.” 

“Are those minor doctrines concerning 
which you concede you differ essential tests 
of Christianity?” 

“Why, certainly not.” 

“Then why do you hold them, and thus bar 
those whom you acknowledge to be Chris- 
tions from your church?” 

Rev. Merlin hesitated, and Rev. Collins 
askt : 


THE SECOND CONFERENCE 


177 


“Do you deny the orthodox faith ?” 

“I or my church?” 

“I mean both.” 

“Our creed is the Bible.” 

“You evade my question instead of answer- 
ing it,” replied Rev. Collins, sharply. 

“Not intentionally.” 

“You certainly know what is meant by the 
orthodox faith?” replied the Presbyterian 
minister, sarcastically. 

“If by orthodox you mean correct or sound 
in doctrine, I think I have answered your 
question, Rev. Collins, for there is certainly 
no creed so orthodox as the Bible. If you use 
the word in its narrow technical sense ; that is, 
a belief in the doctrine of the ‘Trinity’, I 
would say that we do not require a belief in 
this or any other man-made doctrine as a con- 
dition of membership. Our church grants to 
each of its members the right to read and to 
interpret the Scriptures for himself, and to 
make any controverted doctrine a test for 
membership would be a violation of a funda- 
mental principle.” 

“I don’t understand how you can violate 
the principle of a thing that has no principle,” 
said Rev. Merlin, sharply. 

“I do not understand you, Rev. Merlin. The 
only interpretation I am able to put upon your 


178 


HERBERT BROWN 


remark would be a reflection upon the Bible, 
and that I am certain is not your meaning.” 

“Not to make a belief in the orthodox faith 
a condition of church membership is to deny 
it, and to deny the orthodox faith is heresy” 
said Rev. Collins, with an emphatic gesture of 
the head. 

“Allow me to suggest, Rev. Collins, that 
your first assertion requires demonstration, 
and that you should attach to your last state- 
ment your idea of orthodoxy, for the words, 
‘orthodoxy' and ‘heresy’ are absolutely mean- 
ingless except in their relation to the ideas of 
the one using them— they are both terms that 
smell strongly of the breath of the speaker.” 

“In your sneering reference to the doctrine 
of the Holy Trinity, Mr. Powers,” said Rev. 
Merlin, “as a ‘man-made’ doctrine, you only 
expose your irreverence and ignorance.” 

“I presume that you do not mean to say that 
the doctrine as it is written in your creed can 
be read from the Bible, Rev. Merlin?” 

“Why, certainly not ; the same words are 
not found in the Bible, but the same doctrine 
is unmistakably taught there.” 

“Words stand for ideas, and it is said no two 
stand for exactly the same idea; when you 
change the words, you change the ideas. If 
the men that wrote those creeds really wanted 


THE SECOND CONFERENCE 


179 


to express Bible doctrines, why did they not 
retain Bible language? Then, too, is not the 
condemnation against adding to God’s words 
as strong as that against teaching false doc- 
trines? Is it not written: ‘Add thou not unto 
His words, lest He reprove thee, and thou be 
found a liar?’ ” 

“For one, I should like to hear this man talk 
on this subject, where he could have opportu- 
nity to explain these things more fully,” said 
Mr. Hudson, the proprietor of the Sandpre 
Roller Mills. Mr. Hudson, who was an earn- 
est Christian man and an active church work- 
er, was a warm friend of Mr. Rule’s, who in- 
vited him to the meeting this evening. He 
was formerly a member of the Friend’s 
church, more commonly called ‘Quakers,’ but 
had never united with any church since mov- 
ing to Sandpre. 

“I should be in favor of that,” said Mr. 
Brown. 

“I think we should all enjoy hearing Rev. 
Powers speak,” said Mrs. Rule. 

Two or three others exprest themselves to 
the same effect. 

“I think it a good suggestion,” said Mr. 
Rule, “if Rev. Powers will consent.” 

“I should be glad of such an opportunity, 
I am sure,” said Rev. Powers. 


180 


HERBERT BROWN 


“What time would suit you, Rev. Powers?” 

“Should it be on Sunday? I am preaching 
every Sunday, but could get a day off if neces- 
sary.” 

“I think Saturday evening would be better 
than Sunday, as there would be nothing else 
going on in town then,” said Mr. Winnow; 
and a number of others expressing the same 
opinion, Saturday evening next following was 
agreed upon. 

“Where shall this address be given?” askt 
Mr. Rule. 

“How about the Presbyterian church?” in- 
quired Mr. Hudson. “That is about the largest 
and most convenient in town.” 

Mr. Rule turned toward Rev. Collins. 

“Not by my consent,” replied the pastor; 
“the trustees can do as they like.” 

Mr. Rule turned toward the Methodist pas- 
tor. 

“Nor the Methodist church, either. It was 
built for the purpose of denouncing such doc- 
trines and not to promulgate them. And I 
will say more, that if this young man comes 
into this community spreading his heresies, I 
shall use my pulpit to denounce both him and 
his doctrines.” 

“In which case, I should be very glad to 
share your pulpit with you, Rev. Merlin,” re- 


THE SECOND CONFERENCE 


181 


plied the visiting minister, fixing his eyes 
steadily upon the Methodist pastor. 

“Why not use the Court-house?” askt Her- 
bert. 

“Would you object to speaking in the Court- 
house, Rev. Powers?” askt Mr. Rule. 

“Not at all; if my services are of use to you, 
they are at your disposal.” 

“We have a good court-room, very commo- 
dious; I think the largest assembly room in 
the town,” said Mr. Rule. “Then if that is 
agreeable,” continued Mr. Rule, “we will set 
the appointment at the Court-house next Sat- 
urday evening. We will have some posters 
printed, and see that notice goes into each of 
the papers this week.” 

The assembly broke up. Rev. Merlin and 
Rev. Collins, who were the last to arrive, were 
the first to leave. They went out with a deter- 
mined expression on their faces. 

“Herbert,” said Mr. Rule, as he handed him 
his coat and hat, “we shall be glad to enter- 
tain Rev. Powers for the night, unless you 
have made other arrangements.” 

“Very well,” replied Herbert, and turning 
to Rev. Powers, who was standing at his side, 
he added, “I am sure you will enjoy your visit 
with Mr. Rule’s family. I will see you in 
the morning before train time.” 


182 


HERBERT BROWN 


“How long will you be in our town, Broth- 
er Powers?” askt the Baptist minister. 

“I expect to leave on the eight o’clock train 
in the morning.” 

“Unless it would inconvenience you,” said 
Mr. Rule, “we should very much like to have 
you remain at least until the evening train, as 
we have some business matters we should like 
to talk over with you.” 

“O, it will not inconvenience me at all; and 
I shall be very glad to wait for the evening 
train, if you wish.” 

“Then I shall have opportunity of seeing 
you and having a talk with you tomorrow,” 
said Rev. Bailey, taking his leave. 

******* 

“Theora,” said Herbert, as they walkt 
homeward, “you did not tell me what was 
troubling you when I called for you yesterday 
evening. Aren’t you going to tell me?” 

“O, it didn’t amount to anything,” said 
Theora, carelessly. 

“But I know you had been crying, and I 
think I was in some way connected with it, 
tho I cannot imagine how.” 

“Well, it is all right now anyway. I am not 
crying now, am I?” 

“But why not tell me what it was?” 


THE SECOND CONFERENCE 


183 


“Because, it doesn’t amount to anything 
now, and it wouldn’t do any good to tell you.” 

They walkt in silence some distance. 

“Herbert, are you mad at me because I 
don’t tell you,” askt Theora, looking up into 
his sober face. 

“No, I’m not mad; but do you know that 
will annoy me until I know what it is? I am 
sure I am keeping no secrets from you, and I 
do not think you should from me.” 

“I really had not thought of your caring, 
Herbert. I’ll tell you if you’ll promise” — 

“O now, just tell it; and we’ll attend to the 
promises after,” said Herbert, laughing. 
“What is it?” 

“It really doesn’t amount to anything at all, 
Herbert, and I would much rather not tell it,” 
said Theora, after thinking a moment. 

“Tell me, Theora, what it is,” said Herbert, 
looking down into her face earnestly. 

“I’ll tell you, Herbert,” said Theora; “Rev. 
Merlin told me that it was my duty as a Chris- 
tian to break my engagement with you. But 
it doesn’t bother me now, for I am sure you 
have just as good right to your views as he 
has to his, and Rev. Powers tonight explained 
away all his talk about orthodoxy and heresy. 
O Herbert, you don’t know how much good 
that meeting tonight did me.” 


184 


HERBERT BROWN 


But Herbert Brown had not heard a word 
that his companion had uttered after her first 
sentence. Theora did not see in the moon- 
light the teeth set, the lips draw tight, the 
brow contract, the gleam from the eyes; but 
she did notice his silence, and looking up into 
his face, she said: 

“You don’t care now, do you, Herbert?” 

“Don’t care !” exclaimed Herbert, half re- 
proachfully; “do you suppose I don’t care for 
anything?” 

“Why, Herbert,” said Theora, laying her 
other hand upon his arm and looking up half 
frightened, half pleading, into his face, “you 
are angry !” 

It was the first time she had ever seen that 
expression on his face, and it half frightened 
her. 

“Did you suppose that such news would 
make me happy, Theora; that I would enjoy 
having some one under the pretense of re- 
ligion trying to alienate the affections of the 
one I love?” 

“But, Herbert, it is all over now. You won’t 
say anything to him, will you?” 

* * * * * * * 

At eleven o’clock, Herbert Brown was pac- 


THE SECOND CONFERENCE 


185 


ing the floor of his room like a caged beast, 
his face white with rage, his eyes gleaming 
with fierceness, his firm jaw set with deter- 
mination, his whole being resenting what he 
considered an attempted wrong. It was well 
he had the night to cool his fiery spirits. 


CHAPTER XIII. 
GLIMPSES. 


“The wind bloweth where it listeth.” — Jn. 3:8. 

At seven o’clock the next morning, Herbert 
Brown was walking briskly down the street 
toward Mr. Rule’s residence, that he might 
have a little talk with Rev. Powers before the 
train arrived. He was not aware of the change 
in arrangements. Rev. Merlin was just re- 
turning from the post office, where he had 
gone early to mail a letter, written the night 
before after his return from conference, to his 
presiding elder. He had gone thus early in 
order to catch the mail for the early morning 
train. Herbert recognized the minister when 
he was nearly a block away. His first 
thought was to pass him without speaking, 
and await a more convenient opportunity to 
talk with him, for Herbert was anxious to 
have a talk with his visiting friend before train 
time. But as he approacht his impulse to 
speak increast. 

“Good-morning,” said Herbert, as they met, 

looking the minister straight in the face. 

180 


GLIMPSES 


187 


“Good-morning, sir,” responded the other 
in a strong, imperious tone. 

“Just a moment, Mr. Merlin,” said Herbert, 
as the minister was passing him, “I should 
like to speak to you.” 

“Certainly, certainly,” replied the minister, 
turning with an air of dignified condescension. 

“I wish to speak to you regarding your 
counsel to Miss Winnow concerning myself.” 

“You will have to be more definite, young 
man; I do not understand you,” replied the 
minister, coloring slightly, but making an ef- 
fort to retain his assumed superiority. 

“I think you do, but that there may be no 
misunderstanding — I refer J:o your advice to 
Miss Winnow to break her engagement with 
me, to violate her vows; and I wish to request 
that in the future you do not meddle with my 
affairs.” 

“That will depend somewhat on whether 
your affairs lie in the path of my official duty. 
Miss Winnow is a member of my flock, and the 
advice I gave her was for her spiritual wel- 
fare.” 

“The advice you gave her was a piece of 
low-down, cowardly, dastardly villainy, 
prompted by nothing but malice and envy, and 
able to accomplish nothing except the mar- 
ring of the happiness of one that is too pure to 


188 


HERBERT BROWN 


need any of your malicious, hypocritical coun- 
sel; and I wish to ask you, sir, if I may expect 
this to be the end of this matter ?” 

“I shall discharge my duty, without” — 

“I have no time to exchange words with 
you,” said Herbert, stepping forward and lay- 
ing his left hand with a slight grip upon the 
shoulder of the minister, his face white with 
anger, his eyes gleaming; “I have askt you 
whether this shall be the end of your meddling 
with my affairs, and I want your answer — yes 
or no\” 

The minister shrunk back, but felt the grip 
of the strong hand tighten. He remembered 
the fate of the big saloon-keeper. He saw the 
fierce, determined look in the face before him. 
These impressions past through his mind like 
a flash. 

“Yes,” he answered quickly, “I do not de- 
sire” — 

“I don’t care what you desire, nor do I have 
time to hear it, but you will do well to keep 
your word. That’s all!” and Herbert Brown 
turned scornfully on his heel and walkt briskly 
away, snapping his fingers occasionally as his 
temper cooled. He found Mr. Rule’s family 
at breakfast. 

“Just come out into the dining room, Her- 
bert, and have a seat, where we may talk 


GLIMPSES 


189 


while we eat. We are just eating breakfast/' 
said Mr. Rule, after he had taken Herbert's 
hat and coat. “Rev. Powers has consented to 
remain with us until the evening train, and 
so we were in no hurry for breakfast." 

“I am certainly glad," said Herbert. 

“Won’t you sit up and have some cakes 
with us, Herbert?" askt Mrs. Rule. 

“O no, thanks; I just left the breakfast- 
table to hurry over to have a little talk with 
Rev. Powers before he left and before time 
for me to go to the store." 

“How did you like the conference last even- 
ing, Herbert?" askt Mrs. Rule. 

“Well, in a good many respects, I liked it. 
I think it undoubtedly demonstrated the truth 
and the correctness of our position." 

Just then the kitchen door opened, and Mrs. 
Young entered, and setting a small pail on the 
kitchen table she came on into the dining- 
room. 

“Good-morning, good-morning," she said, 
speaking first to the minister and Herbert, and 
then to her parents. “I thought I would bring 
the milk over myself this morning and tell 
you what I heard. Mrs. Jones was just over 
for milk, and she says that Rev. Merlin is go- 
ing to write to his presiding elder to be here 


190 


HERBERT BROWN 


and reply when Rev. Powers speaks, next Sat- 
urday evening.” 

“Haven’t they preachers enough here?” 
askt Mary. 

“No, I think they demonstrated that pretty 
thoroughly last night,” said Seth, and all 
smiled at his ready wit. 

“I think it is just a shame,” said the impul- 
sive Ruth; “they already have three or four 
preachers here against us, and why do they 
want to send for another? I just don’t think 
it is right.” 

“For my part,” said Herbert, “I am very 
glad they have sent for him. It is an open ac- 
knowledgment of their inability to meet the 
issue themselves. All their preachers and 
presiding elders and bishops combined cannot 
make the Bible say what it does not say.” 

“Well said, Mr. Brown,” said the minister, 
with a look of approval. 

“We will just move into the other room,” 
said Mr. Rule, “where it will be more comfort- 
able. 

When all were seated, Mr. Rule handed the 
Bible to the minister, who read a chapter; and 
all knelt at their chairs, while the minister 
offered a short, earnest prayer. 

“In case there should be truth in the rumor, 
Rev. Powers,” said Mr. Rule, after the devo- 


GLIMPSES 


191 


tion had ended, “what course would you think 
advisable to follow ?” 

“The course their actions may suggest. We 
have, I think, nothing to fear. We are in the 
right, and discussion and publicity are always 
beneficial to the right.” 

The conversation was interrupted by a 
knock at the door, and Rev. Bailey entered. 

“I have just received a telephone message,” 
said the Baptist minister, “requesting me to 
attend a wedding at noon today fifteen 
miles from here, and so I called early to have 
a word with Rev. Powers before I went, lest I 
should not get back in time to talk with him 
after my return.” 

“I am very glad you called, Rev. Bailey,” 
said Rev. Powers. 

“What I want to talk with you about is 
your plan for organizing the union church of 
which we were talking.” 

“I fear it will not be a union church, Rev. 
Bailey, from the tone of the other pastors' 
talk last evening,” replied Rev. Powers; “but 
should such an organization be effected it 
should offer a reasonable, and I think the only 
possible, basis for union of all Christians.” 

“What do you mean by the only possible 
basis of union?” askt the Baptist minister. 

“The Bible as their only creed, with the 


192 


HERBERT BROWN 


right of individual interpretation of the same.” 

“I fully agree with you in that. What is 
your plan for effecting such an organization?” 

“I see you mistake my visit here, Rev. Bai- 
ley. I did not come here to organize a church, 
or even to suggest a plan for such an organi- 
zation. I came at the request of Mr. Brown 
here simply to attend your conference, and to 
exchange ideas.” 

“True,” said Mr. Rule, “but this is the very 
business for which I requested you to remain 
with us today; and it is our pleasure that you 
give us your plan for effecting such an organi- 
zation.” 

“At Golden we met together and organized 
by adopting articles of association, electing a 
board of five directors, or trustees, and offi- 
cers. Then we incorporated and proceeded 
to build our church.” 

“What name have you taken?” askt Rev. 
Bailey. 

“Our place of worship is known as 'Bible 
Chaper, and as individuals we take simply the 
Bible name Christians.” 

“How do you receive into the church?” 

“We welcome all that come — Methodists, 
Presbyterians, Baptists, 'Quaked — we have 
members from all these and a few other de- 
nominations.” 


GLIMPSES 


193 


“Do they cause any trouble by contending 
for their particular doctrines ?” askt Mr. Rule. 

“We have not had a single instance of such 
a thing. Not one from the Methodist church 
has ever so much as mentioned their doctrine 
of ‘Probation’, not one from the Presbyterian, 
their doctrine of ‘Election’, nor one from the 
Baptist insisted upon the mode of baptism. 
But we ‘let every man be fully persuaded in 
his own mind’.” 

“I like the plan, Rev. Powers, and I believe 
my little congregation will accept it,” said the 
Baptist minister. “I believe you are in the 
right, and I sincerely wish the Christian world 
would accept the plan, and let us have done 
with this expensive, soul-damning sectarian- 
ism.” 

“I am quite sure that, if you recommend it, 
your congregation will accept the proposition, 
Rev. Bailey,” replied the visiting minister; 
“for I find that the element opposed to such 
a move is not the members, but the ministry.” 

“I fear there is too much truth in your last 
statement, Brother Powers. In case the new 
organization is effected, our house, tho rather 
small and somewhat old, should become the 
property of the new organization.” 

“I should favor building another house,” 
said Mr. Rule; “but the location is undoubted- 


194 


HERBERT BROWN 


ly the best in town, and the old building could 
be sold to good advantage.” 

“I guess you will have to excuse me, as I 
shall be needed at the store,” said Herbert, 
rising. “I shall be pleased to have you call 
at the store, Rev. Powers, when you and Mr. 
Rule have completed the plans for the future, 
and go up and take dinner with me.” 

“Thank you,” replied the minister, and Her- 
bert started toward the door. 

“Do you know, Herbert,” said Mrs. Rule, 
“that Bill Miller has been making threats?” 

“Threats about what?” 

“Why, against you, Herbert.” 

“O, I guess there isn’t much danger. You 
know it is said, ‘A barking dog never bites’.” 

“And still, Herbert,” said Mr. Rule, “it is 
wise to be on the guard in such a matter. The 
chief merit of that old saying is its age. Miller 
is a bad character, and will bear watching.” 

“O yes, of course,” replied Herbert, half 
carelessly. “I thank you,” and he closed the 
door behind him. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE SATURDAY EVENING MEETING. 

“Upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates 
of hell shall not prevail against it.” — Mat. 16:18. 

It was Saturday evening. Rev. Powers had 
arrived on the six o'clock passenger train, and 
had spent the hour and a half before going to 
the Court-house at the home of Mr. Rule. The 
moon was at its full. It was mid-winter, and 
the air was still, clear and frosty. The Court- 
house was well warmed and lighted. The 
meeting had been well advertised, both thru 
the papers and by the gossip of the town. 

“I expect the presiding elder of the Metho- 
dist church will be in your audience this even- 
ing," remarkt Mr. Rule, as he and Rev. Pow- 
ers walkt toward the Court-house. 

“What is his name?" 

“Dr. Swiggart. Are you acquainted with 
him ?" 

“I think not. I do not remember the name." 

“I ’understand he came in on the morning 
train," added Mr. Rule, as they entered the 
Court-house. 


195 


196 


HERBERT BROWN 


The large room was well filled. The audi- 
ence was expectant. The pastors of each of 
the churches, except the Catholic, were pres- 
ent. Dr. Swiggart and Rev. Merlin were seat- 
ed about the center of the room. 

An opening song was followed by invocation 
by Rev. Bailey, after which Mr. Rule stept to 
the platform and introduced the speaker by 
saying simply — 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I have the pleasure 
of introducing Rev. Powers, a minister of the 
Gospel.” 

As the young minister stept upon the plat- 
form, every eye was fixed upon him. There 
was something in his step, in his movement, 
and in his face as he turned toward the audi- 
ence, that commanded respect. He laid his 
Bible closed upon the desk before him, and 
without prelude, introduction or explanation, 
proceeded with his discourse, after quoting a 
text from Acts 24:14 — 

“ ‘I confess unto thee, that after the way 
which they call heresy, so worship I the God 
of my fathers, believing all things which are 
written in the law and in the prophets/ 

“No words of the English language have 
been more extremely misused than have the 
words ‘ heresy 9 and ‘ orthodoxy ’. Under the ban 
of the one has been shed the blood of hundreds 


SATURDAY EVENING MEETING 


197 


of thousands of the purest, best, most right- 
eous and most holy of God’s creatures; under 
the cloak of the other have been hidden hypoc- 
risy, theft, robbery, murder, and every other 
crime known to the human tace. Under the 
false title of Orthodoxy, Hypocrisy refused 
fellowship to John Wesley, excommunicated 
Martin Luther, burned John Huss at the stake, 
tried, imprisoned, beat and banisht Paul, and 
crucified the Savior of the world — and all 
these suffered under the name ‘Heretic’ at 
the hands of the so-called ‘Orthodox’ churches 
of their day. What is this thing called ‘Ortho- 
doxy’? What is the ‘Orthodox’ faith?” askt 
the speaker; and raising the Bible in his right 
hand above his head, he continued : “This is 
the only orthodox creed in the world.” 

For an hour and a quarter the speaker held 
the rapt attention of his large audience. His 
earnestness was eloquence, his logic was con- 
vincing, his manner and style were pleasing 
and attractive. He closed with the following 
words : 

“There is authority in the Bible for but one 
church, without divisions or branches; and 
that church should be so named, organized and 
governed as to furnish a home for all Chris- 
tians. No church has a Scriptural right to ex- 


198 


HERBERT BROWN 


ist that by its creed excludes a single Chris- 
tian.” 

Having ended his discourse, he raised his 
hand as a gesture to the audience to rise to 
receive the benediction, when Rev. Merlin 
sprang to his feet, his hand lifted, exclaim- 
ing— 

“I’d like to make an announcement before 
you dismiss.” 

“Certainly,” replied the speaker. 

“I will just say,” said the Methodist pastor, 
coming to the front and turning facing the 
audience and speaking in a loud tone, “that 
Dr. Swiggart, the presiding elder of this dis- 
trict, will speak in the Methodist church to- 
morrow at eleven o’clock, at which time some 
of the assertions of our young brother will be 
weighed in the Gospel scales, and his little 
theory exploded. All are invited.” 

“Be careful you do not use your church 
scales instead of the Gospel scales,” said the 
young minister, smiling; “and I would sug- 
gest that you take care that the explosion 
does not rack your church.” 

The audience broke forth in a hearty cheer. 
As soon as it was ended, Rev. Powers added*. 

“I have never had the pleasure of meeting 
Dr. Swiggart, but since my remarks this even- 
ing have been found worthy of his attention, 


SATURDAY EVENING MEETING 


199 


I will just say that if he will divide the time 
with me, I shall be pleased to remain over the 
Sabbath and hear him.” 

There was a short silence, followed by an- 
other burst of applause. 

“I have no time to divide with young en- 
thusiastic dissenters,” replied the presiding 
elder. 

Two or three hisses and a general murmur 
broke out in the audience. Rev. Powers 
raised his hand in gesture for attention, and 
as soon as he secured it, said: 

“The audience will please rise,” and turning 
toward the presiding elder, he said, “Will Dr. 
Swiggart pronounce the benediction?” 

The meeting broke up in considerable con- 
fusion. Groups here and there were talking, 
some boisterous and laughing, others earnest. 
Several came forward to make the acquaint- 
ance of the new minister. 

“Herbert, when will the new church be or- 
ganized?” askt Theora, as they walkt home- 
ward. 

“I do not know. I rather think arrange- 
ments will be made to have Rev. Powers hold 
a revival meeting here before long.” 

“O, wouldn’t that be nice ! How I wish he 
would ! I am sure he would succeed. I thought 
the sermon tonight was one of the best I ever 


200 


HERBERT BROWN 


heard. I think it was so fortunate that you 
happened to meet him and get acquainted with 
him.” 

“Yes, I think so, too. I can see now that 
we should have had a pretty difficult task 
without such a leader, and it is going to be no 
very light one anyway, I predict.” 

“Herbert, I am so glad this plan has been 
adopted, and we can have a church where we 
can both belong and both believe its creed. I 
don’t see why any one should want anything 
else for their creed than the Bible. But I don’t 
understand why the ministers make such op- 
position.” 

“They don’t alb Rev. Bailey has fallen in 
with the move, and thinks his church will 
come into the new organization.” 

“I thought he would. Then we shall have 
a house already.” 

“Mr. Rule is in favor of selling that house 
and building another, and I think that will be 
better, as the Baptist house is old and small; 
but the lots are an excellent location for the 
new house.” 

“O, won’t that be fine !” exclaimed Theora. 
“But what makes the other ministers act as 
they do?” 

“I don’t know, but I think it is their salaries 
as much as anything,” answered Herbert, as 


SATURDAY EVENING MEETING 


201 


they entered the parlor of Theora’s home. 
“Theora, you know we have never decided 
who should pronounce the ceremony for us. 
It is only a month now until the day.” 

“Yes, I was just thinking of that this even- 
ing while Rev. Powers was speaking,” said 
Theora, blushing slightly. “I think it would 
be so nice to have him, Herbert.” 

“I am glad you think so. Shall I ask him 
about it tomorrow? I am going home with 
him tonight to attend his church at Golden 
tomorrow.” 

“O, won't that be nice! Yes, Herbert, I 
should rather have him than any one else. 
Had you thought how close our lots are to 
the Baptist church?” 

“They are only half a block away. I let 
the contract for our house today, after the 
plan we decided upon last week. As I will 
not get back until Monday morning, I shall 
probably not see you again for a week, 
Theora. Good-night,” and Herbert stoopt to 
kiss the lips and to look into the face of the 
one so soon to be his own. But ah ! who can 
read the future ? 


CHAPTER XV. 


BURNING OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH. 

“Woe unto them that seek deep to hide their counsel 
from the Lord, and their works are in the dark, and they 
say, Who seeth us? and who knoweth us?” — Is. 29:15. 

Gong-gong-gong-gong ! It was the fire-bell 
of Sandpre. Herbert Brown sprang from his 
bed at an hour past midnight, and as he 
raised the window of his bed-room, he heard 
a voice shout “Fire ! fire !” 

“Fire!” shouted Herbert, as loud as he 
could, and lowering the window hurriedly 
drest himself. As he rusht into the street, 
he saw a dense smoke rising from the direc- 
tion of the Presbyterian church. By this time 
the street was alive with people, all running 
in the same direction, shouting “Fire ! fire !” — 
“Where? What is it?” — “The Presbyterian 
church is burning!” Farther down the street 
the clang-clang-clang of the fire-wagon was 
distinctly heard. A fiercely cold wind was 
blowing almost a gale from the north-west. 
Just as Herbert turned a corner and came into 

full view of the church, the whole front burst 
202 


BURNING OF PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH 203 


into flame. The entrance to the church was 
at the north-west corner, and the fire had evi- 
dently started in the vestibule. Like some 
ghostly fiend the red demon climbed to the 
very top of the church-steeple, and there 
seemed to bid defiance to the helpless throng 
that had gathered. Flashing, crashing, roar- 
ing, the battling flames, borne by the furious 
gale, leapt across the roof, and soon envelopt 
the entire building. The little volunteer fire 
department was absolutely helpless against 
the fury of the elements. The magnificent 
Presbyterian church, the newest, the largest 
and the most modern, was doomed. 

Rev. Collins and Rev. Merlin stood near the 
front of the burning building, talking ear- 
nestly, almost animatedly. A number had 
collected around them. 

“How did it start?” askt one, coming up to 
the group, and addressing the pastor. 

“That is as much a mystery to me as to 
you,” replied the minister. 

“Where did the fire start?” askt another. 

“I first saw the fire from my bed, through 
the window in the vestibule. After giving the 
alarm and dressing as fast as possible I ran 
over to the building. There was then no fire 
in the main part of the building. I ran back 
and again gave the alarm over the telephone. 


204 


HERBERT BROWN 


By the time I had returned, the flames were 
bursting into the assembly room.” 

“Then it must have been the work of an 
incendiary,” said another. 

“Undoubtedly so,” replied the minister; “it 
could not have been other. There has been 
no fire in the building since last Sunday.” 

“Some one has lost something,” said one 
of the group, pointing toward a little red 
object lying near the steps of the burning 
building, now quite plain in the light of the 
fire. 

The speaker shielded his face with his 
hands, rusht forward and secured the object. 
It proved to be a little morocco folder about 
two by three inches in size. Whether a comb- 
case, a picture-case, or a pocket-book, the 
eager crowd was not able to tell. As soon as 
the finder was at a comfortable distance from 
the heat of the fire, he raised the little case 
and fixed his eyes upon it, and as he did so, a 
strange expression came over his face. He 
raised his eyes and lookt over the crowd, as if 
seeking some one. He opened the case and 
lookt within, and the mysterious expression 
of his countenance became only the more puz- 
zling, as he again lifted his eyes and peered 
into the faces of the crowd. He hesitated. 
“What is it?” — “Let's see,” half a dozen 


BURNING OF PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH 205 


voices broke the silence at once. He hesi- 
tated no longer, but, closing the little case, 
he claspt it firmly in his hand, and beckoned 
to Rev. Collins, who stept quickly to his side. 
They stept a little to one side, and the min- 
ister took the case and examined it closely, 
with much the same expression on his face 
that the other had shown, and like him cast a 
searching look over the crowd. He motioned 
to Rev. Merlin. The two examined the case 
together, both the outside and the inside, 
carefully and eagerly. Then the three en- 
gaged in low, though animated, conversation, 
glancing, and occasionally pointing, to the 
spot where it was pickt up. All turned again 
and lookt through the expectant, anxious 
crowd as if seeking some one. There was 
another husht, but plainly excited, conversa- 
tion, after which Rev. Collins walkt over to 
Mr. Robb, the county attorney, who was 
standing not far away from the little group. 
He took him by the arm and led him to one 
side. A few hurried words were exchanged, 
and they joined the other two. A few more 
words, and the four walkt away from the 
wondering crowd to the Presbyterian parson- 
age. 

The crowd gazed in silent amazement at the 
departing group. 


206 


HERBERT BROWN 


“What was that?” askt some one. 

“I think it was a little red book, probably a 
pocket dictionary,” replied another. 

“No,” said another, “I think it was a 
morocco comb-case, and I think there was a 
name printed on the outside in gold letters.” 

“I believe,” said another, “it was a pocket 
photo-case. I think there was a picture inside 
that they were looking at.” 

“Was it the Presbyterian church that was 
afire?” askt Theora and her mother together, 
as Mr. Winnow returned to his home at half 
past two o’clock in the morning. 

“Yes.” 

‘Did it burn down?” 

‘Yes, it burned down.” 

“How did it catch fire?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Could it have caught from the furnace?” 

“O no; some one set it afire. There has 
been no fire in the furnace since Sunday, and 
then anyway it started in the vestibule, or at 
least in the front part of the building.” 

“Who could have done such a thing as 
that?” askt Mrs. Winnow. 

“That’s what a good many would like to 
know just now, I guess.” 


BURNING OF PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH 207 


“Does any one seem to suspect anybody?” 
askt Mrs. Winnow. 

“I don’t know. Something was pickt up 
near the steps of the building that seemed to 
furnish some clue. At least the county attor- 
ney and Rev. Collins and Rev. Merlin went 
to the parsonage with it.” 

“What was it?” askt Theora. 

“I don’t know. It lookt like a red comb- 
case, so they said that saw it. I didn’t see 
it.” 

“Did they know whose it was?” again askt 
Theora. 

“I don’t know. At any rate they didn’t 
tell.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE ARREST. 

“Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” — 
Gal. 6:7. 

Breakfast was late at the home of Mr. 
Brown, Wednesday morning, on account of 
their having been up during the night. They 
had just risen from the table when there was 
a knock at the door. Mrs. Brown opened the 
door, and found Mr. Tuttle, the sheriff, there. 

“Will you come in?” askt Mrs. Brown. 

“Thank you,” replied the sheriff, entering. 
“Good-morning, Mr. Brown. Good-morning, 
Herbert.” 

“Good-morning,” they both responded. 

“Herbert,” said the sheriff, “I have a war- 
rant here for your arrest.” 

“For my arrest?” said Herbert, starting. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“For what?” 

“On the charge of arson,” replied the 
sheriff, handing him a copy of the warrant. 
“You had better put on your coat; it's pretty 
cold.” 


208 


THE ARREST 


209 


“For burning the church last night?” askt 
Mr. Brown. 

The sheriff nodded in the affirmtaive. 

“What! Herbert? Herbert couldn’t have 
done such a thing! Father!” and Mrs. Brown 
sank into a chair. 

Mr. Brown, his face pale almost as death, 
stept to the side of his wife. Herbert’s hand 
trembled perceptibly as he handed back the 
warrant for his arrest. His face was white as 
he put on his over-coat and hat. He and the 
sheriff left the house together. 

“Jane,” called Mr. Brown to the hired girl. 

“Yes, sir,” responded the young lady, rush- 
ing in; and then seeing the white face of Mrs. 
Brown, she threw up her hands and ex- 
claimed, “Why, Mrs. Brown, what is the mat- 
ter?” 

“Jane, I wish you would step over and ask 
Mrs. Adams if she will come and stay with 
Mrs. Brown for awhile.” 

“Yes,” said the girl, excitedly; and, snatch- 
ing a shawl off the bed, she dasht out of the 
house, and went as fast as she could run to 
the home of Mrs. Adams. She did not even 
stop to knock, but, rushing in, exclaimed, “O 
Mrs. Adams, do come quick! There’s some- 
thing the matter with Mrs. Brown, and they 
want you ! O hurry !” 


210 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Why, what is the matter?'’ askt Mrs. 
Adams, throwing a shawl over her shoulders 
and quickly wrapping- a fascinator round her 
head. 

“O, I don’t know,” exclaimed the other, 
sobbing, as she led the way, running. “I 
think something awful has happened! She 
lookt so wild out of her eyes! O dear! O 
dear!” 

They were both out of breath when they 
reacht their destination. While Mrs. Adams 
feared something serious had happened, yet 
she did not share the extreme excitement of 
her companion. 

“Here she is,” said Jane, bursting into the 
room, followed closely by Mrs. Adams. 

“Thank you, Jane. That’s all,” said Mr. 
Brown; and Jane, half frantic with excite- 
ment, went into the kitchen. 

“I would like for you to stay with Mrs. 
Brown for awhile, if you will, Mrs. Adams. I 
shall have to go up town.” 

“O father, it can’t be true!” exclaimed Mrs. 
Brown, looking wildly into the face of her 
husband, as he started from her. 

“This is only an accusation, Mary,” said 
Mr. Brown, turning again to his wife. “Hun- 
dreds of innocent persons are accused of 
crimes they are afterwards proven innocent 


THE ARREST 


211 


of. Now you must not worry. Mrs. Adams 
will stay with you. I will look after Herbert’s 
interests,” and Mr. Brown put on his coat and 
hat and walkt rapidly down the street in the 
direction taken by his son and the sheriff 

“O Sarah, it can’t be true! I know it is 
false !” exclaimed Mrs. Brown, wringing her 
hands and turning her head from side to side, 
for she was too weak to raise it from the back 
of her chair. 

“I do not know what it is, Mrs. Brown,” re- 
plied her companion, with a sweet tenderness 
in her eyes and face that no artist could paint, 
save that master artist, called Sorrow. 

“They have accused Herbert of burning the 
church last night. But I knoiv he didn’t do it. 
Herbert couldn’t have done such a thing!” 

“He is only accused of doing it, Mrs. Brown. 
He will have a chance to prove that he didn’t 
do it. I’m sure he didn’t, and you shouldn’t 
worry about it, for it will all come right by 
and by.” 

“Yes,” sighed Mrs. Brown. “Come closer, 
Sarah, and let me hold your hand.” 

“Do you feel faint, Mrs. Brown?” askt the 
frail little woman, as she drew her chair closer 
to that of her companion, and took the white 
hand in her own hard, calloused one. 

“O no; but I feel so tired and weak,” faintly 


212 


HERBERT BROWN 


replied the other, her head falling upon her 
shoulder and her eyes closing. 

“Jane !” called Mrs. Adams, gently. 

“Yes,” answered Jane, quickly opening the 
door; and then, seeing her mistr.ess, she stopt, 
lifted her hands and exclaimed, “O my!” 

Mrs. Adams put up her hand quickly in a 
gesture for silence, and said quietly, — 

“Bring a basin of cold water, Jane.” 

Jane obeyed quickly, and some cold water 
was sprinkled on the face of the patient, who 
opened her eyes and raised her head. 

“Hadn’t you better lie down?” askt Mrs. 
Adams. 

“I expect so, though I feel stronger now.” 

“Here, Jane,” said Mrs. Adams, “you take 
her other arm, and we’ll help her to the bed.” 

Steadied between the two, Mrs. Brown 
walkt to the bed and was assisted upon it. 

“Shall I put another pillow under your 
head?” askt Mrs. Adams, as Jane left the 
room. 

“If you please. Sarah, I am so glad you are 
here. I do not know what I should do with- 
out you. O, if I could only know that Her- 
bert is innocent I would give everything, — 
everything, — everything.” 

Herbert Brown had his preliminary hear- 


THE ARREST 


213 


in g before Justice Smith, and was bound over 
to appear at the February term of the district 
court. The main evidence offered was the 
little red case. Herbert’s father, Mr. Rule 
and Mr. Hudson were his bondsmen. 

The news of Herbert’s arrest had spread 
like wild-fire. It was the principal, almost 
only, topic of discussion at the various points 
of assembly in the town. Almost every 
imaginable position was taken by different 
ones. Some profest his innocence, and de- 
clared this an effort on the part of his enemies 
in the churches to ruin his reputation, for his 
relation to the churches was by this time well 
known. Others accepted the evidence as con- 
clusive proof of his having committed the 
offense, but insisted that he was partially 
justifiable in the face of the provocation. 
Others admitted his guilt, but were inclined to 
treat him with charity because of his past al- 
most faultless life and his high family rela- 
tions. Others yet declared it a most unjusti- 
fiable act, and insisted that his high family 
relations and good name made the crime only 
the more inexcusable. Those that professt 
his innocence, and they were decidedly in the 
minority, attempted by divers methods to ex- 
plain the matter of the mysterious little red 
case. Some asserted that it was not his at all, 


214 


HERBERT BROWN 


and that in the trial before the district court 
he would deny ownership. Others suggested 
that he might have lost it, and some enemy 
finding it had used it thus to injure him. And 
yet others that he might have been early at 
the fire trying to save the building, and lost 
it from his pocket. In answer to all these 
suggestions of his friends, the question was 
invariably askt why he did not offer such ex- 
planation at his preliminary hearing, and thus 
secure his acquittal at once. To which it was 
most surely replied that tho he were inno- 
cent yet he likely had no rebutting evidence 
except his own word, and that would not be 
considered in a preliminary hearing; but that 
he would undoubtedly be prepared to prove 
his innocence at the trial. 

Tho Herbert continued his work at the 
store, yet he was very apparently dejected, 
and bore a careworn expression, which deep- 
ened day after day. At home he ate little, and 
talkt but little. He spent much of his time 
in silent meditation. He was markedly absent- 
minded, and it was growing on him, — so much 
so that his parents feared his mind was being 
affected. They did not dare mention the mat- 
ter to him, though his mother would have 
given all the world, if she could, to know the 
truth in the matter. And it were better that 


THE ARREST 


215 


she had known; for suspense is more wear- 
ing, more trying, more distracting to the 
human mind, than is truth, however terrible 
it may be. She spent long hours alone, when 
Herbert and her husband were at the store, 
weeping. 

The business at the store, too, had per- 
ceptibly fallen off. Many of their regular 
customers, especially members of the 
churches, had entirely quit them. 

The Presbyterian church building was in- 
sured for its full value, and arrangements were 
made at once to rebuild. 

Herbert never mentioned the matter to any 
one, unless it were to his attorney, Mr. Mabry, 
the oldest lawyer in the town, and their con- 
versation was an entire secret. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE RING. 

“But now it has come upon thee, and thou faintest; it 
toucheth thee, and thou are troubled.” — Job 4:5. 

“Theora, your father and I think that you 
should return Herbert’s ring.” 

“Why, mamma?” and Theora lookt up with 
a startled expression. 

“It would not be proper to preserve an en- 
gagement under such circumstances. Your 
father thinks Herbert will be sent to the peni- 
tentiary.” 

“O papa, will he?” 

“I am afraid so.” 

“But if he is innocent, papa, they can’t send 
him to the penitentiary!” 

“I’m afriad he’s not innocent,” replied Mr. 
Winnow, seriously. 

“You don’t think he burned the church 
house, do you?” 

“Things point that way; and he has never 
denied it, so far as I have heard.” 

“I don’t believe he did it. And even if he 

did, he’s better than some in the churches. 

2ie 


THE RING 


217 


They’ve treated him just as mean as they 
could.” 

“But that is no justification for such a 
crime,” said her mother. “We have talkt 
with Brother Merlin, Theora, and he insists 
that it is your duty to return the ring. He 
says your keeping it under such circumstances 
is causing much gossip to the detriment of the 
church.” 

“Mr. Merlin is a brute !” exclaimed Theora, 
her eyes flashing like balls of fire for an in- 
stant, and then hidden by the tears that gusht 
forth. 

“W-h-y, T-h-e-o-r-a !” exclaimed her 
mother, in utter astonishment. 

“Well, mamma, he is doing everything in 
his power to ruin Herbert, and Herbert has 
never injured or harmed him in any way. 
They hate Herbert just because he is honest 
and true to his convictions. If Herbert had 
burned all the church houses in town he would 
yet be a thousand times better and purer and 
more a Christian than he !” 

“Theora, it does not sound well for you to 
talk that way,” said her father, good-natured- 
ly, and in a tone that showed the sympathy he 
felt for the idol of his heart. 

“But, papa, they’re all against him. You 
know he’s honest and true. He may have too 


218 


HERBERT BROWN 


much temper, and if he did burn the church 
house that was the cause-of it. But, papa, you 
said yourself that he violated the law when 
he struck ‘Bill’ Miller, and yet that it was the 
best thing that had ever happened in this 
town. You know it was his quick temper that 
made him do that. Mr. Merlin would have 
stood there and let that big stout man crush 
the life out of that helpless little woman.” 

“But what if it were his temper that led him 
to do it?” askt Mrs. Winnow. “That is no 
justifiable excuse, Theora. What may such a 
temper lead to?” 

“But why should I return his ring before he 
is proven guilty?” 

“That you may not be dragged down to dis- 
grace with him,” replied her mother. “It will 
not be necessary after he has been sentenced 
to the penitentiary, as he in all likelihood will 
be.” 

“But, mamma, that would be cruel. I don’t 
believe he is guilty, and he has enough to bear 
already,” and Theora’s pretty lips and chin 
quivered, and the eyes again filled with tears. 

“You can send a note with it, Theora, ex- 
plaining why you return the ring. You can 
say, if you wish, that it is at your parents re- 
quest.” 

Theora lookt through her tears for a mo- 


THE RING 


219 


ment at the band of pure gold encircling her 
finger. 

“Well, there it is,” she said, taking the ring 
from her finger and placing it on the table at 
arm’s length in the direction of her mother. 
“You can send it to him, if you want to. I 
can’t do it. I love Herbert,” and she laid her 
head on her extended arms and sobbed aloud. 

“No, Theora,” said her mother, gently, “it 
is your place to return the ring. I would do 
it for you if I could.” 

Theora, rising, took the ring and went into 
her room, closing the door behind her. She 
threw herself upon the bed, burying her face 
in the pillows. 

“O Herbert, why did you do it?” she sobbed. 


As Herbert Brown glanced over the mail 
he had just taken from their box at the post- 
office that evening, he recognized a familiar 
handwriting. He slipt the letter into his 
pocket, and wondered all the way home what 
it might contain. He had not seen Theora 
since the ill-starred event of the burning of 
the Presbyterian church, and, for that matter, 
since the Saturday evening before. Nor had 
he had any word from her. He had often 
thought of her, and wondered how she re- 
garded the affair, and what effect the news of 


220 


HERBERT BROWN 


his arrest and the suspicion that rested upon 
him had had on her affections for him. He 
felt sure the letter in his pocket contained 
the answer to all this; and though he desired 
no information more, yet he thought of open- 
ing the letter only with a sickening dread. He 
laid the mail on the table before his father, 
and, excusing himself, went up to his own 
room, where he had left the light burning. 
Sitting down, he took the letter from his 
pocket and laid it on the table before him. A 
tender, pathetic feeling showed on his face 
as he read again the address on the envelope. 
There was no mistaking the handwriting. As 
Herbert sat thus fearing, and yet longing, to 
open the letter, he noticed for the first time 
a slight rise in the envelope. He placed his 
finger upon the elevation, and discovered the 
ring. He graspt the letter in his hand and 
held it like one gazing at a vision. His face 
was white as death, his eyes fixed and burn- 
ing. He sat thus motionless for some time. 

“I'll do it,” he muttered between his teeth, 
dropping the letter upon the table and rising. 
He lifted the lid of his trunk, and took from it 
a 38-calibre Smith & Wesson revolver. He 
turned the cylinder to see that it was loaded. 
He laid it on the table at his side. He gazed 
at it for a moment as if admiring its beauty. 


THE RING 


221 


Then taking a knife from his pocket he opened 
the letter. He pickt up the solid gold ring and 
gazed at it for a moment. He read on the in- 
side of it the Latin words he had had engraved 
there, “ Ama me semper,” and for an instant 
a grim smile played oft his features. He 
graspt the pearl handle of the revolver in his 
other hand. He sat for several minutes as 
motionless as a statue, the letter in the one 
hand, the deadly weapon in the other. 

“Yes, I’ll end it all,” he said, laying the let- 
ter and the weapon on the table. 

He took from the drawer a sheet of paper, 
and with his pencil wrote a short letter to his 
mother. He told her the whole truth, tho 
briefly, in the matter of which he was accused. 
He included a kind message to Theora, and 
finisht by stating his terrible decision to end 
all at once. As he laid the letter down after 
reading it, he seemed for the first time to real- 
ize fully the blow this would be to his few 
remaining friends, especially his mother; and 
he hesitated. He said to himself, half audi- 
bly,— 

“O, that I had no friends. O mother, I 
wish I could spare you this blow.” 

Again he seemed to hesitate. Then he re- 
membered his conversation with his attorney 
that afternoon. He remembered his words, — 


222 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Unless something should develop, God 
only knows what the jury’s decision may be.” 

He glanced again at the ring. Again that 
same wild determined expression took pos- 
session of his face. 

“Yes, I’ll end it all now,” he said, rising. 

He laid the letter he had just written care- 
fully on the table where it would be easily 
seen. He placed Theora’s letter and the ring 
at its side. He graspt again the deadly 
weapon. His white lips were drawn tight, 
his teeth set. He stept quickly before the 
large mirror in the room. He started at his 
own white, wild, ghostlike appearance. But 
it was only for a moment. He raised the fatal 
weapon to his temple, looking carefully to 
make sure there should be no mistake. So 
deeply interested was he in the awful tragedy, 
in which he was to be the sole actor, that he 
did not hear the light step on the carpeted 
stair-way. Rev. Powers had heard of the 
burning of the church and of Herbert’s ar- 
rest; and had come on the evening train to 
see his friend and to learn the truth, and to 
offer him any assistance in his power. He had 
stopt to talk a little while with Mr. Rule be- 
fore coming to Mr. Brown’s residence. On 
enquiring whether Herbert were at home, 
Mrs. Brown had answered, — 


THE RING 


223 


“Yes, he is in his room. I will call him.” 

“I wish to have a private talk with him,” 
replied the minister, “and if convenient will 
go to his room.” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Brown, “I guess it will 
not be necessary for me to go up with you. 
The door at the head of the stairs opens into 
his room.” 

“I am so glad you came, Mr. Powers,” said 
Mrs. Brown. “I am sure your visit will do 
Herbert good,” for well she knew that the 
affection that has sprung up between them 
was as strong as the affection between 
brothers. 

The door at the head of the stairs was part- 
ly open. As he raised his hand to knock, he 
unconsciously shifted his position, and he saw 
through the opening of the door the form of 
Herbert standing before the mirror, the glis- 
tening weapon pointed toward his temple. 
Herbert’s side was obliquely toward him, in 
such a position that neither could see the re- 
flection of the other in the mirror. The min- 
ister stood for an instant, — only an instant, — 
and yet in that quick instant a multitude of 
ideas, reflections, impressions, resolutions, 
flasht through his active mind. He graspt 
fully the situation. He knew that the last act 
in that appalling scene awaited but the slight 


224 


HERBERT BROWN 


pressure of a finger. A word might stay it — 
a word might hasten it. The slightest sound 
might do the same. There was no time to 
consider. The next instant might ring with 
the crack of the revolver. Like a flash the 
athletic form of the young minister bounded 
across the room. He had measured the dis- 
tance and determined his course with admir- 
able precision. He seized the glittering 
weapon just in front of the raised hammer. 
Herbert started as one from a nightmare. 
The minister felt the weapon wrench power- 
fully in his hand, but it was held in a grip 
almost as firm and strong as Herbert’s. For 
a moment they stood, each grasping the dead- 
ly weapon, staring into each other’s face. 
Each was half frightened at the white face 
of the other. The minister was more than 
frightened at the wild, half-demoniacal ex- 
pression in the eyes and face before him. 

“Herbert,” said the minister, as soon as he 
was able to speak, and this was the first time 
he had ever called Herbert by his given name, 
“for God’s sake give me that weapon.” 

Herbert loosed his grip on the handle of 
the revolver, and suffered himself to be led, 
pale and trembling, to a chair. The minister 
was trembling hardly less, as he nervously 
ejected the cartridges from the cylinder of the 



HERBERT, FOR GOD’S SAKE GIVE ME THAT WEAPON. 


















































THE RING 


225 


weapon and dropt them into his coat pocket, 
and then laid the revolver on the table. 

“Herbert,” again spake the minister, “God 
is the only witness to this besides ourselves, 
and I pledge you my word and honor that not 
a breath of it shall ever pass my lips. Now, 
Herbert, promise me here and now that you 
will never again contemplate such a thing.” 

“You do not understand,” said Herbert, 
pushing the letter and the ring toward him. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 

“Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? 
are not his days also like the days of an hireling ?” — Job. 
7:i. 

“Keep everything as quiet as possible,” said 
the doctor. “Do not wake her to give the 
medicine, but when she is awake give it regu- 
larly according to directions. If there is any 
change, call me at once. I’ll return in two 
hours.” 

“What is your opinion of her, Doctor?” 
askt Mrs. Brown, following the physician to 
the door. 

“Serious. I’m afraid, very serious.” 

Mrs. Adams lay on her bed, pale, emaciated, 
exhausted, the eyes but half closed, the balls 
turned upward, the lips parted, the breath 
quick, short and rapid. 

Two weeks had passed since the events of 
our last chapter. Mrs. Adams had been taken 
down with pneumonia soon after she was 
called to the home of Mr. Brown at the time 

of Herbert’s arrest. In fact, she had at that 
226 


IN VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 227 

time a severe cold, which grew rapidly worse, 
and finally settling on her lungs, terminated 
in pneumonia. Mr. Brown had furnisht her 
a physician, and had instructed him to call 
for consultation any physician he might de- 
sire. During the last few days, since Mrs. 
Adams had been considered dangerously ill, 
Mrs. Brown, tho still quite delicate, had been 
at her bedside a part of each day; and Herbert 
had called regularly to render any assistance 
he could, and to make sure they were in need 
of nothing that it was possible to supply. 

Jake had been sober since his mother was 
taken down, and had been very kind and at- 
tentive to her, until yesterday, when she was 
thought to be a little better, and he had gone 
up town on some errand, and had fallen in 
with some of his old associates, and had gone 
with them to the saloon. As is usually the 
case with one given to constant drinking, 
when he has not touched it for a few days, 
Jake could not stop with a drink. He was now 
staggering drunk at a neighboring house, 
where every effort was being made to sober 
him up so that he might be brought to the 
bedside of his mother. 

About an hour before she had roused up 
and called for him, but had been deceived into 
believing he was up town and would be there 


228 


HERBERT BROWN 


soon; when the truth was, he had been 
brought away from the ‘‘joint” some two 
hours before. She had been delirious at in- 
tervals during the day, at which times her 
whole talk and conversation had been to or 
about Jake, — at times praying for him, at 
times talking with him and again at other 
times imagining him converted, and laughing 
and clapping her hands in joy. 

Mrs. Brown was sitting at her bedside 
watching with tender eyes every movement 
and every change of feature of the patient. 
Two or three other neighbor women were 
present. Herbert had just stept in so lightly 
that his mother was not conscious of his pres- 
ence until he toucht her shoulder, and handed 
her a little package. It was a prescription 
from the drug-store. Just then the eyes of 
the patient opened wide, wild and delirious. 

“Help! help!” she cried, making an effort 
to rise to a sitting posture, and moving her 
hands frantically, as she glared about with that 
wild, weird, haunting expression so peculiar 
to delirium. “No! no! you can’t have him! 
You can’t have my Jake! He’s all I have! 
Help! help! O Herbert, loose his grip on my 
shoulder! He’s killing me! Where’s Her- 
bert?” The women had gathered around her 


IN VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 229 


bed. Mrs. Brown was gently stroking her 
face and talking to her. 

“Speak to her, Herbert,” said his mother, 
turning toward him. 

“Here I am, Mrs. Adams,” said Herbert, 
stepping up to the side of the bed. 

But the weak form was exhausted, and she 
sank back upon her pillow. Then, turning 
her eyes quietly toward Mrs. Brown, she 
seemed to recognize her. 

“O, Mrs. Brown, are you here?” 

“Yes, Mrs. Adams; do you feel better?” 

“There's nothing ailing me, Mrs. Brown. 
It was ‘Bill’ Miller trying to take my baby 
away from me. He wanted to make a drunk- 
ard of him. But Herbert saved him, didn’t 
he?” 

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Brown; “now you had 
better rest awhile.” 

Again she slept, if such a condition might 
be termed sleep. 

“Herbert,” said Mrs. Brown, turning 
toward him and speaking in a low whisper, “I 
think you had better run to the house and 
’phone for the doctor. I fear she is worse.” 

Herbert was scarcely gone when Mrs. 
Adams started, up again, clasping her hands, 
and turning her delirious eyes toward the ceil- 
ing, exclaiming, — 


230 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Saved! saved! My boy is saved! Jake is 
converted! Praise the Lord! O, how happy 
I am ! Jake's a Christian,” feebly clapping her 
hands. 

“Poor thing!” whispered one of the women; 
“she imagines it’s the night of Jake's conver- 
sion at the meeting.” 

“O, help! help! I can’t get him into the 
church ! They’re after him ! They're after 
him ! Help me get him into the church ! The 
‘joints’ are after him! The devils are after 
him! ‘Bill' Miller is after him! For God’s 
sake, help me save my boy, — my poor boy!” 
and again she fell back panting upon her pil- 
low. 

Mrs. Brown took the thin, wasted hand in 
hers and gently prest it to her lips. Just then 
Herbert returned. 

“Will he be here?” eagerly askt his mother. 

“Yes, he's coming.” 

“How is Jake, Herbert?” whispered Mrs. 
Brown. 

Herbert shook his head sadly. 

Just then the doctor entered. He walkt 
quickly to the bedside, and placed one hand 
on the forehead and the other on the wrist of 
the patient. He watched the breathing close- 
ly for a moment, and then stept back and 
shook his head. 


IN VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 231 


The patient started up again. Lifting her 
hands and eyes in the attitude of prayer she 
prayed most earnestly and piteously for half 
a minute for her boy, and then again became 
silent. 

All faces were turned toward the physician. 

“She can't last long," he replied to their 
inquiring looks. 

“It seems too bad for her to have to die 
without seeing Jake," said Mrs. Brown, weep- 
ing. “She begged so hard to see him." 

“Yes," said the doctor, “but in his condi- 
tion it could only have made her worse." 

Mrs. Adams opened her eyes, and lookt at 
those around her with a perfectly sane expres- 
sion. There was no delirium in the look. 

“I want to tell you all good-bye," she said. 
“You have been so good to me and Jake." 

She took the hand of each in turn, bidding 
them good-bye, and asking them to pray for 
her boy. 

“Mrs. Brown," she said, “you have been so 
good to us. You'll see about my burial, will 
you?" 

“Yes," sobbed Mrs. Brown, “we'll do any- 
thing we can, Mrs. Adams. We’ve not been 
half so kind to you as you have been to us." 

“You’ll find a purse in the bottom of my 
trunk in the bed-room, with twenty dollars in 


232 


HERBERT BROWN 


it. The funeral expenses need not be very 
much, — just so Jake won’t be ashamed; and 
if there’s anything left keep it for him.” 

“We’ll pay all the expenses ourselves, Mrs. 
Adams. The money shall all be kept for 
Jake,” said Mrs. Brown, brokenly. 

“You’ll find a black dress in the trunk, too, 
Mrs. Brown. It is one my husband bought 
for me just before he was killed. I never felt 
like I wanted to wear it, and have kept it all 
these many years to be buried in. I think 
that is all, — except Jake. I know you’ll be 
good to him. Remember he’ll have no mother 
now. Pray for him, Mrs. Brown. Good-bye.” 

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Brown, holding the thin 
hand in both of hers. 

“Now I want to tell Jake good-bye,” said 
Mrs. Adams. 

There was a husht silence, and a startled 
look on the faces of the little group. 

“Yes,” said the doctor, stepping closer to 
the side of the bed ; “Jake will be here pres- 
ently. Now you must rest awhile.” 

“No, I must see my boy first.” 

“O yes,” replied the doctor, “but you must 
rest until he comes.” 

“He’ll never come, Doctor. You’re trying 
to deceive me. I can’t die until I see my Jake, 
my poor, poor boy. For God’s sake bring him 


IN VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 233 


to me,” she exclaimed, wildly. “I know he’s 
drinking, but I must see him. He’s all I’ve 
got in the whole world, and I can’t go without 
seeing him.” 

“You must get quiet and rest, Mrs. Adams,” 
said the doctor, kindly. 

“I can’t rest until I’ve seen my boy. O Mrs. 
Brown,” she said, turning toward her with a 
pleading look, “do tell them to bring him to 
me. Think if it were your own boy, and you 
were dying. Herbert, you brought him to me 
once. Won’t you bring him to me now?” 

“Doctor,” said Herbert, stepping over close 
to the side of the physician, and speaking with 
difficulty, “don’t you think it will be better to 
bring him, even if he is drunk?” 

“Probably just as well,” replied the doctor. 

“Yes, we’ll bring him, Mrs. Adams,” said 
Herbert, and he left the room quickly. 

“O, I’m so glad,” said Mrs. Adams, feebly. 

In a few minutes Herbert and another man 
entered the room supporting Jake between 
them. Jake was very drunk. 

“O, my poor, dear boy!” exclaimed Mrs. 
Adams, at sight of him. “If I could only have 
got him into the church !” 

“To hell with the church. It ain’t no bet- 
ter’n the rest uv us,” blurted out Jake, as they 
led him to the chair by the bedside. 


234 


HERBERT BROWN 


“I’m so glad you’ve come, Jake. I’m so 
glad you’re here,” said his mother, turning 
upon him a look of almost more than human 
love. “Let me hold your hand, Jake.” 

Jake was so thoroughly intoxicated that he 
did not comprehend the situation; yet he 
seemed desirous of pleasing his mother, and 
he made an effort to grasp the thin bony hand 
next him. Herbert stept forward and assisted 
him. No sooner was her hand in Jake’s than 
she made an effort to reach toward him the 
other, at the same time looking up into his 
face with a longing, affectionate expression 
that Herbert immediately interpreted cor- 
rectly. 

“Lean forward, Jake ; she wants to put her 
arm around your neck,” said Herbert, pushing 
Jake into position, and lifting the weak arm 
and placing it around the neck of her boy. 

The faintest smile for an instant played 
around the thin lips. 

“Jake, my boy, who will love you when I 
am gone ! It’s so hard to leave you in the cold 
world alone. Good-bye, Jake, my poor, dear, 
sweet child. O God, have mercy on my boy ! 
It isn’t all his fault. O, save him from a 
drunkard’s grave.” The hand dropt from the 
neck upon the breast. The eyes closed. There 
was silence for a moment. The lips moved 



I’M SO GLAD YOU’VE COME, JAKE. 























* 





- 















IN VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 235 


again, and she said faintly and falteringly, — 
“Church — saloon — Jake.” 

Her hand still lay in the hand of Jake, but it 
had loosed its clasp. The breast ceased to 
heave. Her face became as calm and peaceful 
as a sleeping babe’s. The doctor bent over 
her a moment holding her wrist. 

“She is gone,” he said. 

The stillness of the room was broken by 
sobs. Mrs. Brown buried her face in the pil- 
low beside the corpse, and sobbed aloud. Her- 
bert, the tears flowing down his cheeks, raised 
Jake from the chair and led him from the 
room. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

ANOTHER SCENE AT MILLER’S JOINT. 

“The recompense of a man’s hands shall be rendered 
unto him.” — Prov. 12:14. 

It had been three weeks since the burial of 
Mrs. Adams. Jake was sober at the funeral, 
and his grief was unbounded and truly pathet- 
ic, as he bent over the coffin, and lookt for the 
last time upon the face of his devoted mother. 
For two or three days after the burial of his 
mother, Jake refrained from drinking, but dur- 
ing that time he was very gloomy and de- 
spondent, and finally he seemed to seek refuge 
from troubles, and probably remorse, — as 
those accustomed to strong drink generally 
do, — by deadening or paralyzing with drink 
the finer and higher sensibilities. 

It was the second Monday in February, and 
the district court had convened that day, 
owing to which there were many more people 
in town than was usual on Monday, — wit- 
nesses, jurors and spectators. The feature of 
the court’s docket that was most talkt of; in 
fact, about the only case talkt of at all, was 

230 


ANOTHER SCENE AT MILLER'S JOINT 237 

Herbert Brown’s trial for arson. His trial 
was set for Wednesday. The town was rife 
with speculation as to the outcome of it. There 
had been several animated, almost heated, dis- 
cussions. 

Jake Adams had been working for the last 
two days, Saturday and Sunday, out on Mr. 
Winnow’s ranch. The heavy snows had cov- 
ered up the buffalo-grass, and they were com- 
pelled to provide sustenance for the thousand 
or twelve hundred head of cattle on this ranch. 
This they did by nailing together two two-by- 
six scantling, about sixteen feet long, in the 
shape of the letter V, with a brace across the 
top. Then teams were hitched to them, and 
they were dragged over the prairies, followed 
by the hungry cattle. 

Jake and two other of Mr. Winnow’s cow- 
boys rode into town just after sundown and 
went to the restaurant for their suppers. The 
eating house was crowded. After supper some 
one proposed going to Miller’s “joint,” which 
was only three doors away. Half a dozen, in- 
cluding Jake, quit the restaurant for the 
“joint.” They found the place well filled. Tho 
Jake occasionally frequented this place, yet he 
and Miller were not on good terms. The day 
after Miller’s fight with Herbert, when Jake 
had become sober enough to understand what 


238 


HERBERT BROWN 


had transpired, he and Miller had exchanged 
angry words, and would have come to blows 
had not others interfered. 

When the group entered the saloon, it was 
apparent that an interesting conversation was 
going on, in which a few were taking active 
and rather earnest part, while the others were 
listening attentively. It required but a mo- 
ment to discover that Herbert Brown was the 
subject of discussion, and that “Bill” Miller 
was the principal spokesman on one side. 

“I'll jes’ bet any man ten ter one 'at he goes 
to the ‘pen,' ” said Miller, with a sweeping 
gesture of the hand. 

“Well, I wouldn’t bet on that,” said the 
principal spokesman on the other side, “for 
the odds seem to be against him, so far’s I 
know.” 

“Against ’im! Well, I should say!” ex- 
claimed Miller, with a rough, loud laugh. 
“What better ev’dence ’ud ye want? He 
wan’t in a rod uv whar thet case wus pickt 
up, after the fire wus discovered. Thar hain’t 
no question as ter its bein’ hisn. He hain’t 
never denied it. An’ then besides all thet, 
ever’body knows he’d fell out with all the 
churches, spec’ly the Presbyterian. They wus 
agoin’ ter turn ’im out uv it. He’d had a fuss 
with the preacher, an’ he’d fell out with the 


ANOTHER SCENE AT MILLER'S JOINT 239 

Meth’dis’ preacher too, ez nice a preacher’s I 
ever see, a feller 'at never’d a harmed nuthin’, 
an’ he couldn’t ef he’d a wanted to.” 

“O,” replied the other, “I expect he burned 
the house, all right.” 

“A man ’ud be a d — d fool ter think anythin’ 
else.” 

“And still it would be a pity to send him to 
the ‘pen’.” 

“Why?” askt Miller, glaring indignantly at 
his opponent. 

“Because the penitentiary was never built 
for such as him. He’s too good for it.” 

“Too good fur it!” almost shouted the in- 
dignant saloon-keeper. “The devil he is! Her- 
bert Brown’s the d — dest, low-down, sneak- 
in’est, dirtiest pup in this town.” 

“You’re a liar!” came like a flash from 
another quarter, and every one in the building 
started. Those sitting sprang to their feet. 
Every one that knew “Bill” Miller knew there 
was business at hand, and the others did not 
have to wait long to learn it. Without a word, 
Miller leapt over the bar and rusht at his an- 
tagonist. Jake well knew, when he spoke, 
that Miller would resent it, and he was ready 
to meet him. As they rusht together, Jake 
struck first, and tho his blow reached its des- 
tination, it hardly fazed his powerful assailant. 


240 


HERBERT BROWN 


It was followed at almost the same instant by 
a crushing blow from his furious adversary, 
which sent Jake backward over a chair behind 
him, and he fell heavily on the floor. Ani- 
mated with rage, he sprang to his feet like a 
flash, and seizing the chair with both his hands 
hurled it with all his enraged power straight 
at the head of his on-rushing enemy. Miller 
duckt his head, and the chair flew over him 
and over the bar behind him, and went crash- 
ing among the bottles on the shelves. Again 
Miller rusht upon him, and they exchanged 
blows, and again Jake received a stunning 
blow from the heavy hand of the bully which 
sent him flying backward, and he fell heavily 
to the floor. Miller rusht upon him with the 
fury of an enraged tiger. Jake struggled to 
his feet. 

‘‘Stop!” shouted Jake. It was the voice of 
warning rather than of fear. His enraged foe 
did not heed it, but came rushing on in his 
mad fury. Something gleamed for an instant 
in the dim light of the saloon. There was a 
quick flash, and the crack of a pistol rang out 
clear and loud through the room. 

“My God!” exclaimed Miller, and he fell 
forward upon his face at the very feet of Jake, 
who stood over him, holding in his hand a 
smoking Colt’s revolver. 



IS 

< 

fr 


h 


f _> 


I— « 

1 


































































ANOTHER SCENE AT MILLERS JOINT 241 

The crowd in the “joint” rusht forward, and 
half a dozen lifted Miller from the floor and 
rusht out of the building, followed by the 
others. They carried him across the street to 
the nearest drug-store. He was laid upon 
the table. The clothes were cut and parted 
over his chest. Even in that moment of ex- 
citement, Jake’s practiced hand had missed its 
aim by only half a hand’s breath; for there, 
only about two inches to the right of the 
center of the chest, was the gaping, ghastly, 
bleeding wound where the death-messenger 
had torn its way. The ball had passed entire- 
ly through the body. 

“Is he dead?” askt some one. 

“No,” replied the doctor, busily examining 
him. 

“It is a fatal shot, Doctor?” askt another. 

“Don’t know,” replied the doctor, without 
looking up; “if it had been an inch to the left 
it would have killed instantly.” 

After the wound was drest, Miller was car- 
ried to a room in the hotel where he was 
boarding. His first word on recovering con- 
sciousness was an oath, and a threat of re- 
venge against Jake Adams. 

“Will he get well?” the doctor was askt, 
as he came down from Miller’s room. 


212 


HERBERT BROWN 


“There’s about one chance in ten for him,” 
replied the doctor. 

Jake went at once and gave himself up to 
the authorities. Public sentiment was almost 
universally in his favor. In fact, the public 
heaved a breath of relief at the news that Mil- 
ler was out of the way. The only respect Mil- 
ler had commanded was through his great 
physical strength and natural force of char- 
acter. Jake was acquitted on the grounds of 
self-defense. His warning word before shoot- 
ing was clearly heard by all in the saloon, and 
every witness testified in his favor. 

The public was awaiting momentarily the 
news of the death of “Bill” Miller. 


CHAPTER XX. 

HERBERT BROWN’S TRIAL. 

“For the work of a man shall he render unto him, and 
cause every man to find according to his ways.” — Job 34:11. 

It was eleven o’clock Thursday morning. 
After almost a day and a half of constant ef- 
fort, a jury had at last been impaneled. So 
generally had the matter of Herbert’s arrest 
been discussed that it was very difficult to find 
twelve men, otherwise qualified, that had not 
formed an opinion as to his guilt or innocence. 
All the day before and up to the present time 
that day the court-room had been filled with 
spectators, eager to hear the trial. Never be- 
fore in the history of the county had any trial 
awakened so much interest. 

As the judge announced the impanelment 
of the jury completed, and that the court was 
ready to proceed with the trial, a wave of ex- 
citement past over the audience. People all 
over the large room straightened up and 
craned their necks to catch the first move in 
the important trial. On one side of the at- 
torneys’ table sat Mr. Robb, the county attor- 

248 


244 


HERBERT BROWN 


ney, with Rev. Collins and Rev. Merlin at his 
back. On the other side sat Mr. Mabry, Her- 
bert’s attorney. Herbert sat at the side and a 
little back of his attorney, and his parents, to 
the left and a little behind him. Mrs. Brown 
was leaning on her husband’s shoulder for 
support. She was pale and worn, and wore 
an anxious expression. Herbert, though he 
sat erect and lookt with a steady eye into the 
faces of the jurors, yet presented the appear- 
ance of one just risen from the sick-bed. His 
face was thin and white, his eyes tired, though 
anxious and troubled. 

“The state will call its first witness,” said 
the judge. 

“Joseph Cage,” responded Mr. Robb, and 
the witness entered by a side door and took 
his seat in the witness chair. 

“Have you been sworn?” askt Mr. Robb. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Give your name to the jury.” 

“Joseph Cage.” 

“Mr. Cage, what is your place of resi- 
dence?” 

“Sandpre.” 

“What is your occupation?” 

“I’m a harness maker.” 

“Is your place of business in this town?” 

“Yes, sir.” 


HERBERT BROWN'S TRIAL 


245 


“Mr. Cage, I will ask you if you are ac- 
quainted with the defendant in this case, Her- 
bert Brown?” 

“I am .” 

“How long have you known him ?” 

“For the last seven years, — ever since I 
have been here.” 

“I will ask you, Mr. Cage, where you were 
on the night of January fourteenth last?” 

“I was at my home until about one o’clock 
in the morning.” 

“Where were you after one o’clock of that 
morning?” 

“I was at or near the Presbyterian church.” 

“What was the occasion or cause of your 
being at or near the Presbyterian church at 
that time?” 

“It was burning. I was awakened by the 
fire alarm at about one o’clock and ran to the 
church.” 

“Was any one else there when you ar- 
rived?” 

“Yes, sir; a few.” 

“About how many?” 

“Well, I do not know; probably a dozen or 
fifteen.” 

“Was the defendant, Herbert Brown, 
there?” 

“I do not think so.” 


246 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Are you reasonably certain he was not 
there?” 

“I do not think he was.” 

“You say you know him well?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You would have recognized him if he had 
been there, would you not?” 

“We object!” shouted Mr. Mabry, almost 
before the prosecuting attorney had finisht 
his question. “That’s a leading question.” 

“The objection is sustained,” said the judge. 

“Did you see the defendant at or near the 
Presbyterian church when you first arrived 
there?” askt Mr. Robb. 

“No, sir.” 

“Did you find or pick up anything at or near 
the building while it was burning?” 

“I did.” 

“What was it?” 

“It was a little red morocco photograph 
case.” 

“Do you have it yet?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Would you recognize it should you see it 
now ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“If the court please,” said Mr. Robb, rising 
and addressing the judge, at the same time 
taking from his pocket a little red case, “I 


HERBERT BROWN'S TRIAL 


247 


wish to introduce this as evidence,” and he 
stept over and handed the case to the judge, 
who examined it closely and returned it to 
the attorney with approval. 

“Examine this,” said the prosecuting attor- 
ney, handing it to the witness. “Is that the 
case you pickt up on the night of the four- 
teenth of January at or near the Presbyterian 
church while it was burning?” 

“It is.” 

“How do you know it?” 

“I know it by the name on it, and also by 
the picture in it.” 

“I desire the jury to examine this carefully,” 
said the prosecuting attorney, taking it from 
the hand of the witness and handing it to the 
foreman of the jury. 

“What did you do with that case, Mr. Cage, 
when you found it on that night?” 

“I showed it first to Rev. Collins, the pastor 
of the Presbyterian church, and afterward to 
Rev. Merlin, and then we turned it over to the 
county attorney.” 

“Where did you pick it up?” 

“Just in front of the steps of the church.” 

“About how far from the steps?” 

“Not more than two feet.” 

“I believe that is all,” said the prosecuting 
attorney. 


248 


HERBERT BROWN 


“You say you have been acquainted with 
the defendant, Herbert Brown, about seven 
years ?” askt Mr. Mabry, on cross examina- 
tion. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Have you known him well and seen him 
frequently during that time?” 

“I have.” 

“Have you ever known the defendant to be 
guilty of any crime, offense or wrong?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Did you at any time see the defendant on 
the grounds while the church was burning?” 
“I did.” 

“When?” 

“After I had pickt up the case and had 
showed it to Rev. Collins and Rev. Merlin.” 

“As a matter of fact, you were looking for 
him at that time, were you not?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“That is all.” 

“Call your next witness,” said the judge. 

“Rev. Merlin,” said the county attorney. 

The usual questions pertaining to residence, 
occupation and acquaintance with the pris- 
oner were askt and answered. Then the 
prosecuting attorney continued,— 

“Have you ever heard the defendant at any 
time express a dislike for the churches?” 


HERBERT BROWN'S TRIAL 


249 


“We object,” shouted Mr. Mabry. 

“You will state your objection,” said the 
judge. 

“The testimony is irrelevant. The only 
church concerned in this case is the Presby- 
terian, and the defendant’s likes or dislikes for 
any others is irrelevant testimony.” 

“The objection is sustained,” said the judge. 

“I will ask you then if you have ever heard 
the defendant express a dislike for the Pres- 
byterian church.” 

“I have.” 

“Just state to the jury on what occasion, 
Rev. Merlin.” 

“At one time,” said the minister, turning 
toward the jury, “at the residence of Mr. Win- 
now, of this city, this young man askt me 
some questions regarding a certain doc- 
trine,”— 

“We object,” again shouted Mr. Mabry. 

“State your objection,” said the judge. 

“A like or dislike for any particular church 
creed or doctrine is irrelevant and immate- 
rial.” 

“If the court please,” said Mr. Robb, rising, 
“we propose by this evidence to show the 
motive that prompted the defendant in burn- 
ing the Presbyterian church ; and certainly 
such testimony is competent.” 

“The objection is overruled.” 


250 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Go on,” said the county attorney, address- 
ing the witness. 

“As I was just saying, the defendant askt 
me a number of questions regarding certain 
doctrines held by the orthodox churches,” — 

“We object,” again shouted Mr. Mabry. 

“The objection is sustained,” said the judge; 
“the witness must confine himself to questions 
and discussions pertaining to the Presbyterian 
church.” 

“Just give the part of the conversation re- 
lating to the Presbyterian church, Rev. Mer- 
lin,” said the county attorney. 

“Well, he denounced the doctrine of that 
church, and declared that no church holding 
such doctrine had a right to exist.” 

“Did he exhibit any feeling or temper dur- 
ing the conversation?” 

“Yes, sir; he became quite angry.” 

“Did you on any other occasion hear him 
make any threatening statements regarding 
the Presbyterian church ?” 

“Yes, sir; at several different times.” 

“What was another occasion on which you 
heard the defendant make such statements?” 

“On two different occasions at the resi- 
dence of Mr. Rule, of this city, where several 
had met together to consider organizing an- 
other church.” 

“What did he say?” 


HERBERT BROWN'S TRIAL 


251 


“He repeated the same or similar state- 
ments.” 

“Have you at other times or on other occa- 
sions heard him make any threatening re- 
marks regarding this church?” 

“I do not remember any other.” 

“That's all.” 

Herbert leaned forward and whispered in 
the ear of his attorney. 

“You say the defendant showed anger or 
temper in his conversation with you regard- 
ing the Presbyterian church?” askt Mr. 
Mabry, on cross-examination. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Mr. Merlin, did you and the defendant 
ever, at any time, at any place, on any occa- 
sion, have a conversation regarding the Pres- 
byterian church?” askt Mr. Mabry, looking* 
sharply at the witness. 

“Well, no; not regarding that particular 
denomination,” replied the witness, uneasily. 

“Have you not just testified before this 
jury, Mr. Merlin, that in conversation with 
this defendant regarding the Presbyterian 
church he showed temper and anger?” askt 
the attorney, leaning forward and fairly look- 
ing through the witness. 

“Well,” replied the witness, faltering and 
confused before the pointed question and the 


252 


HERBERT BROWN 


piercing look of the attorney, “it was regard- 
ing a doctrine that was held by that church.” 

“A doctrine that was held by that church/’ 
repeated the lawyer, with all the scorn and 
sarcasm of his nature. “Then it was no more 
regarding that church than any other, was 
it?” 

“I do not know that it was.” 

“As a matter of fact, it was simply some 
doctrine held by different churches that you 
heard the defendant object to, was it not?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied the witness, falteringly. 

“Then as a matter of fact, you never heard 
him denounce the Presbyterian church at all?” 

“Well, not — that is, not directly.” 

Mr. Mabry eyed the witness for a moment 
with a look of scorn, then proceeded. 

“You testified that the defendant showed 
temper, and was angry, in his conversation 
with you, did you not?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied the minister, restlessly. 

“How did he do it?” 

“Well, in several ways.” 

“Did he speak in a loud voice?” 

“N-no.” 

“Did he rise up, or strike at you, or make 
any attempt against your person?” 

“O, no.” 


HERBERT BROWN'S TRIAL 


253 


“Did he use oaths, or imprecations, or other 
improper language?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Did he make any gestures with his hands 
while he was talking?” 

“I do not remember that he did.” 

“What did he do then, — make faces at 
you?” exclaimed the lawyer, in sarcastic ridi- 
cule. 

“No, sir,” replied the witness, covered with 
confusion, as the judge rapt for order. 

“Mr. Merlin, I want you to explain to this 
jury how the defendant showed the anger 
and temper of which you have testified.” 

“We object,” said the county attorney, more 
to protect his witness than through any belief 
that there was ground for objection. “The 
witness has already testified that the defend- 
ant showed temper. It is not presumed that 
one can always explain just in what way one 
shows temper or anger, though it may be very 
apparent.” 

“This is cross-examination,” replied Mr. 
Mabry, “and we have a right to investigate 
such testimony as this.” 

“The objection is overruled,” said the judge. 
“The witness will answer the question.” 

“What is the question?” askt Rev. Merlin. 


254 


HERBERT BROWN 


“The stenographer will read the last ques- 
tion,” said the judge. 

The stenographer read the question. 

“I can hardly tell you just how he showed 
anger,” said the witness, evidently catching 
the idea from the county attorney, “but he 
very clearly did it.” 

“That’s all,” said Mr. Mabry, with a sneer. 

Rev. Collins was the next witness, and cor- 
roborated the testimony of the other two wit- 
nesses. He testified positively that at no time 
after he discovered the fire was Herbert 
Brown in a position to have dropt the case 
where it was found. 

“Call the next witness,” said the judge, as 
Rev. Collins left the stand. 

“Theora Winnow,” said the county attor- 
ney. 

As Theora entered the room, there was a 
stir over the entire audience. Her face was 
whiter and thinner than usual. Her eyes were 
sad and troubled. But for all that, she seemed 
even more beautiful than usual as she followed 
the constable into the room. As she took her 
seat in the witness chair, she glanced about 
her with a half frightened expression. Her- 
bert sat with that same unchangeable expres- 
sion upon his face. For the first time since 
that Saturday night when they parted after 


HERBERT BROWN'S TRIAL 


255 


the meeting in that very room their eyes met. 
Ah ! How little did they dream on that even- 
ing that their next meeting should be in the 
same room and under such changed condi- 
tions and circumstances. Alas! What 
changes had been wrought ! Their plans for 
the future all thwarted, their engagement 
broken, their high ambitions crushed ! Each 
at once noticed the change that had taken 
place in the other’s face. Theora’s eyes filled 
with tears, and she turned quickly away to 
hide them. 

“Will you give your name to the jury?” 
askt the county attorney. 

“Theora Winnow.” 

“Where do you live, Miss Winnow?” 

“Here, — in this town,” replied Theora, hesi- 
tating; for this was not only the first time she 
had ever been a witness, but the first time she 
had ever attended a trial. 

“Are you acquainted with the defendant In 
this case, Herbert Brown?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Theora, with a sad, sweet 
softness in her charming voice that seemed to 
touch and cause to vibrate a chord of sympa- 
thy in every heart in that large audience. 

“How long have you known him ?” 

“About five years,” replied the witness, 
after thinking a moment. 


256 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Are you well acquainted with the defend- 
ant?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I will ask you, Miss Winnow, what rela- 
tion, if any, existed between you and the de- 
fendant ?” 

Theora hesitated, lookt puzzled and colored 
slightly, as she replied, — 

“We were friends.” 

“Did any stronger relation than that of 
mere friendship exist between you?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Theora, her eyes filling 
with tears. 

“What was that relation?” 

Theora again hesitated, and glanced help- 
lessly toward the judge. 

“Just state to the jury, Miss Winnow, what 
relation existed between you and the defend- 
ant, Herbert Brown.” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I will just ask you, Miss Winnow, whether 
you and the defendant, Herbert Brown, were 
engaged?” 

The prosecuting attorney fully expected 
objection to be made on the grounds that he 
was asking a leading question, but he askt it, 
thinking it the best and quickest way to sug- 
gest to the witness the information wanted. 
But Mr. Mabry made no objection. 



WE WERE ERIENDS. 



















































* 



























HERBERT BROWN'S TRIAL 


257 


“Yes, sir,” replied Theora. 

“Does that relation still exist?” 

Theora hesitated again. She inadvertently 
glanced toward Herbert. His eyes, with a 
sad, yet determined, tho at the same time ten- 
der, expression, were fixed upon her. It was 
only a glance, and she as quickly turned away, 
her face coloring deeply at the consciousness 
of her indecorum. 

“I do not know,” she said at last, and with 
her answer came the vision of the letter, the 
ring, and her conversation with her parents; 
and in spite of her effort to prevent it, the 
tears filled her eyes, and she was forced to 
raise her handkerchief to her face. Mrs. 
Brown, too, had put her handkerchief to her 
eyes. 

“Why do you not know?” askt the lawyer. 

“We object to the question as incompetent, 
irrelevant and immaterial,” said Mr. Mabry, 
though he knew there was little ground for 
objection; but he did it out of respect to the 
feelings of the witness. 

“If your honor please,” said Mr. Robb, ad- 
dressing the judge, “the relation of this wit- 
ness to the defendant is a very important mat- 
ter in this case, and we certainly have a right 
to place it before the jury.” 

“The objection is overruled,” said the judge; 


258 


HERBERT BROWN 


“but I would suggest, Mr. Robb, that the ex- 
amination of the witness be as brief and with 
as much regard for the feelings of the witness 
as possible.” 

“I am sure, your honor, I have no desire to 
distress the witness, but simply to bring the 
facts as they exist before the jury.” 

“You will proceed,” said the judge. 

“I will ask you to examine this,” said the 
attorney, rising and handing her the little case. 

Theora took it, and lookt with a fixed, 
steadfast gaze at the name on the outside. 

“Please open it, and look at the inside of it, 
Miss Winnow.” 

She opened it and lookt inside, and closed 
it again, with an expression of almost hatred 
on her face. 

“I will ask you, Miss Winnow, if you have 
ever seen that case before?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I will ask you whether you know whose it 
is?” 

“I think I do.” 

“Whose is it?” 

“It used to be Herbert Brown’s.” 

“Do you recognize the picture on the in- 
side ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Whose is that?” 


HERBERT BROWN’S TRIAL 


259 


“It is mine.” 

“I will ask you whether you know how the 
defendant came into possession of it?” 

“Yes, sir; I gave it to him,” she replied, 
struggling to keep back the tears. 

“When did you first see that case, Miss 
Winnow ?” 

“About two years ago,” she replied thought- 
fully. 

“Did it at that time belong to the defendant, 
Herbert Brown?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“When did you last see it before today?” 

“I do not remember.” 

“Well, about when? — a week, or a month, 
or six months ago?” 

“Probably two months ago; but I do not re- 
member.” 

“Did it then belong to the defendant?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Did you ever know any one else to own 
or possess it?” 

“No, sir.” 

“That’s all,” said the prosecuting attorney. 

Mr. Mabry turned and whispered to Her- 
bert, and Herbert shook his head, 

“That’s all,” said Mr. Mabry. 

“Just one more question,” said the county 


260 


HERBERT BROWN 


attorney. “When last were you in the com- 
pany of the defendant?” 

“I do not remember.” 

“Well, about when? Can you not remem- 
ber the occasion, or some event by which you 
can fix the time?” 

“It was at the time of the meeting here, 
when Rev. Powers spoke in this room,” re- 
plied Theora, biting her lip to control her 
feelings. 

“That was last month?” 

“I think so.” 

“That is all.” 

Mr. Mabry bowed, and Theora left the wit- 
ness stand. 

“It is now five minutes after twelve 
o’clock,” said the judge, “and the court will 
adjourn until half past one o’clock,” and giv- 
ing instructions to the jury, he turned to the 
constable, saying, “You may adjourn court.” 


CHAPTER XXL 


AFTERNOON SESSION. 

“Ye shall not respect persons in judgment.” — Deut. 1 117. 

Some did not leave their seats in the court- 
room at all, lest they should be unable to get 
seats for the afternoon session. Others went 
to the restaurants or bakeries and bought 
lunches and returned to the court-house to 
eat them. Fully fifteen minutes before time for 
the afternoon session every foot, even of 
standing-room, was taken, and others were 
trying to gain entrance. Promptly at half 
past one o’clock the clerk of the court called 
the roll of jurors, and reported all present. 

“The state will call its next witness,” said 
the judge. 

“Mrs. Brown will take the stand,” re- 
sponded the county attorney. 

Mrs. Brown, assisted by her husband, took 
the chair. 

“Your name?” askt the attorney. 

“Mrs. Mary Brown.” 

“Where do you live, Mrs. Brown?” 

“Here at Sandpre.” 


261 


262 


HERBERT BROWN 


“What relation, if any, do you bear to the 
defendant in this case?” 

“I’m his mother,” replied the witness, her 
voice trembling slightly. 

“I will ask you, Mrs. Brown, where you 
were on the night of January fourteenth 
last?” 

“I was at home.” 

“Do you remember any event of unusual 
occurrence on that night?” 

“It was the night the Presbyterian church 
was burned.” 

‘'When did you first learn of the burning 
of the Presbyterian church?” 

“We were all awakened by the ringing of 
the fire bell at about one o’clock that night.” 

“You say all. Whom do you include in 
that?” 

“My family.” 

“Will you just name them?” 

“My husband, Herbert and myself.” 

“By Herbert you mean your son, the de- 
fendant in this case?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You say you were all awakened by the 
fire bell. How do you know that, Mrs. 
Brown ?” 

“O, I do not know it. I just supposed it. 
We all got up then.” 


AFTERNOON SESSION 


263 


“Did the defendant sleep in a different 
room from you?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Was it on the same floor?” 

“No, sir; it was up stairs.” 

“And you slept down stairs?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Would the defendant have had to pass 
through your room in entering or leaving the 
house ?” 

“No, sir.” 

“In case he had left his room and gone 
out of doors, would it have been possible for 
him to have walkt on carpeted floors and 
carpeted steps all the way out of the house, 
Mrs. Brown?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied the witness, after a mo- 
ment’s thought. 

“I will ask you, Mrs. Brown, which left 
the house that night after the ringing of the 
fire alarm first, your son or your husband?” 

“Herbert left first.” 

“How long before your husband did he 
leave?” 

“I do not remember. Probably two or three 
minutes.” 

“Did not your husband dress as fast as he 
could?” 


264 


HERBERT BROWN 


“1 think so.” 

“I will ask you, Mrs. Brown, whether there 
was any other noise or disturbance in or 
around your house on that night previous to 
the alarm?” 

Mrs. Brown started perceptibly at the 
question. 

“Yes,” she replied fearfully. 

“What was that disturbance?” 

“It sounded like some one on the walk.” 

“Did you hear the gate shut, or the latch 
click?” 

“I think I did.” 

“Which did you hear first, the walking or 
the gate?” 

“I heard the walking first.” 

“Then, I will ask you, in your opinion, was 
the one you heard walking going from or 
coming to the house?” 

“Must have been going from the house,” 
replied the witness, thoughtfully. 

“At about what time did you hear that, 
Mrs. Brown?” 

“I do not know, but it was probably about 
midnight.” 

“Did you mention this matter to any one?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“To whom did you first mention it?” 

“I waked my husband up and told him.” 


AFTERNOON SESSION 


265 


“What did he do, or say, if anything ?” 

“He got up and went to the window and 
looked out, but said he did not see anyone.” 

“Did you call your son, the defendant?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Do you know whether he was in his room 
at this time?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Did you hear any other sound or noise 
after that, and before the fire alarm?” 

“No, sir.” 

“I believe that is all.” 

“Mrs. Brown,” said the attorney for the 
defense, on cross-examination, “I will just ask 
you whether you ever knew your son, the de- 
fendant in this case, to be guilty of any crime 
or offense?” 

“No, sir. Few mothers have had better 
reason, I think, to be proud of their boys 
than I,” and she raised her handkerchief to 
her eyes, resting her elbow on the arm of the 
chair. 

“That’s all,” said Mr. Mabry. 

Mr. Brown was the next witness, and he 
corroborated the testimony of his wife. He 
was followed by Mr. Rule, who was ques- 
tioned by the prosecuting attorney regarding 
statements he had heard the defendant make 
concerning his dislike for the Presbyterian 


266 


HERBERT BROWN 


church, and by Mr. Mabry as to Herbert’s 
reputation. 

‘‘Call your next witness,” said the judge, as 
Mr. Rule left the stand. 

“James Nutt,” said the prosecuting attor- 
ney. 

There was another stir and murmur in the 
audience. This was a surprise. Nutt was one 
of those shiftless, drinking, worthless, unprin- 
cipled characters that make up an element in 
the inhabitancy of every town and city. No 
one among the spectators had any knowledge 
as to what his testimony was to be, unless 
it might be to testify to seeing the defendant 
at the fire, and they could not imagine why he 
should be called for that, when so many re- 
spectable witnesses could testify to that. 

“What is your name?” began the county 
attorney. 

“James Nutt.” 

“Where do you live?” 

“In this town.” 

“How long have you lived here, Mr. Nutt?” 

“Nigh onto about ten years.” 

“What is your business ?” and a smile 
broke out on the faces of a number in the 
audience. 

“A laborer,” and the smile changed into a 
giggle, and the judge rapt on his desk. 


AFTERNOON SESSION 


267 


“I will ask you, Mr. Nutt, if you are ac- 
quainted with the defendant over there, Her- 
bert Brown?” 

“Yes, sir; I know him as well's I know my 
own father.” 

“How long have you known him?” 

“Ever since I've been here.” 

“Where were you on the night of January 
fourteenth last?” 

“Well, I was several places. I came home 
from town about eleven o’clock, and found 
my old sow had broken out of her pen, and 
so I struck out to look for her, and didn’t get 
back until a little after midnight, and I had 
just got into bed when the fire alarm sounded, 
and then I got up and ran over there.” 

“I will ask you, Mr. Nutt, whether you met 
or saw anyone while you were out looking 
for your hog?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Who was it?” 

“Herbert Brown.” 

“At about what time did you meet him?” 

“It must ’a’ been about twelve o’clock or a 
little after.” 

“Where did you meet him?” 

“I didn’t meet him, but I saw him.” 

“Where did you see him?” 

“Right in front of Ben True’s barn.” 


268 


HERBERT BROWN 


“I will ask you, Where is that with refer- 
ence to the Presbyterian church?” 

“It's jest south of the Presbyterian church 
about half a block.” 

“Just tell the jury the circumstances and 
what took place there, Mr. Nutt.” 

“Well,” said the witness, straightening up 
and turning toward the jury, “I was looking 
for my sow around Ben True’s barn, when I 
heard some one cornin’, and so I just stood 
still where I was, kinder in the shade of the 
barn, until they passed, and I saw that it was 
Herbert Brown. And after he had gone on 
by, I went on.” 

“What direction was he going?” 

“He was going north toward the church.” 

“The Presbyterian church?” 

“Yes, sir; the Presbyterian church.” 

“Did you watch to see where he went?” 

“No; as soon as he had past I went on 
home.” 

“Are you sure it was Herbert Brown?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“How close were you to him?” 

“Not mor’n ten feet.” 

“That’s all.” 

Mr. Mabry followed with about five min- 
utes of rapid sharp cross-examination, in 
which the witness’ character and irresponsi- 


AFTERNOON SESSION 


269 


bility were pretty clearly brought out. At 
times the witness was more or less confused, 
but he stuck to his statement. 

“That’s all,” said Mr. Mabry, with a look 
of disgust. 

“Call your next witness” said the judge. 

“The state rests,” said the prosecuting at- 
torney. 

“We should like a few minutes’ recess,” said 
Mr. Mabry. 

“The court will take five minutes’ recess,” 
said the judge. 

Very few left the room during recess. The 
chief topic of discussion was the evidence of 
the last witness. The general opinion was 
that he had been bribed; in fact, Nutt had 
often been suspected of perjury, tho he had 
never been indicted. But the puzzling ques- 
tion was, Who could have bribed him? Sure- 
ly the county attorney could not have done 
such a thing, and he and the two ministers 
were apparently the only ones taking an ac- 
tive part in the prosecution. While it was the 
universal opinion, or nearly so, that Herbert 
was guilty, yet it was about as universally 
believed that Nutt’s testimony was false. 

During the recess Herbert and his attorney 
did not leave the court room, but conversed 
where they were sitting. 


.270 


HERBERT BROWN 


« Court was again called to order, followed 
by the roll-call of the jury, and the judge 
announced ready for business. 

Mr. Hudson was the first witness put on 
the stand by the defense to testify to the good 
reputation and conduct of the defendant. 
There was no cross-questioning. 

“Call your next witness,” said the judge. 

“Timothy Griggs,” said Mr. Mabry, and 
again there was a little stir in the audience. 

Presently the tap, tap, of Uncle Tim’s cane 
was heard, and the old man entered the room. 
He was clad in a plain, rather worn, suit of 
gray. He wore on his head a cap equally 
worn, and a large red handkerchief tied round 
his neck. His long gray hair hung down upon 
his shoulders. He took his seat in the witness 
chair, and turned toward the lawyers and the 
audience with an expression that seemed to 
say : 

“I am here.” 

“Will the witness please remove his cap?” 
askt Mr. Robb, respectfully, before the at- 
torney for the defense had begun questioning 
him. 

“No, sir,” replied Uncle Tim, with a de- 
cisiveness that was conclusive. “When the 
snow’s on the groun’ like today, I kain’t see 


AFTERNOON SESSION 


271 


good in the house without my cap ter shade 
my eyes, an’ I’ll jes’ keep it on.” 

There was a ripple of laughter over the 
audience, and a hint at a cheer. The judge 
rapt on his desk for order, tho a smile broke 
for a moment over his own sober counte- 
nance. Mr. Robb frankly acknowledged his 
defeat by a smile that took possession of his 
whole countenance, as he said : 

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Griggs; I didn’t 
know.” 

“The bes’ way fur a feller’t don’ know’s 
ter keep still,” said Uncle Tim, and the law- 
yer followed his advice, at least for the pres- 
ent. But the audience did not, for there was 
a loud burst of applause. 

The judge rapt loudly on his desk, and 
lookt as angry as it was possible for him to do. 

“Will you state your name to the jury?” 
askt Mr. Mabry. 

“Timothy Griggs, though they gin’rally 
call me Uncle Tim.’ 

“Where is your home, Mr. Griggs?” 

“Right here at Sandpre’s whar I stay.” 

“How long have you lived at Sandpre?” 

“Longer’n the town has, sir. I lived in this 
neighborhood ’fore tha’s any town in forty 
miles o’ here. I helped drive the stakes when 
this town wus laid out.” 


272 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Are you acquainted, Mr. Griggs, with the 
defendant in this case, Herbert Brown?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“How long have you known him?” 

“I’ve knowed ’im all his life, an’ his daddy 
before ’im since ’e wus a chil’, an’ I rode these 
plains in the sixties with ’is gran’ daddy, one 
o’ the braves’ an’ bes’ men on the frontier. 
He wus more like Herbert’n his own daddy 
is. He never saw the man ’at he wus afeard 
on.” 

Of course the audience was smiling and en- 
joying Uncle Tim’s testimony, but for all that, 
the old frontiersman had a reputation for 
straightforward veracity, as well as sound, 
shrewd judgment, that carried a weight with 
it; and Mr. Mabry had done well to select him 
as one witness by whose testimony he would 
prove his client’s good character. 

“You have seen the defendant frequently 
and are well acquainted with his life?” 

“I reckon I’ve seed him on the av’rage two 
er three times a day since he wus born.” 

“From your knowledge of him, Mr. Griggs, 
what can you say of his reputation, as to 
whether it is good or bad?” 

“Herbert Brown’s reputation! Tha hain’t 
a young man in this county ’at’s got a better 
one. An’ tha kain’t no man hones’ly say a 


AFTERNOON SESSION 


273 


word agin’ ’im, nor again’ ’is father nor ’is 
gran’ father. An’ tha ain’t no boy got a better 
mother. An’ I knowed her fam’ly, too, an’ 
tha ain’t no better people’ll they wus. The 
feller ’at tries ter attack Herbert Brown’s 
character’s in mighty d — n pore bis’ness, an’ 
the only ones I know uv doin’ it’s Bill Miller 
and some uv the preachers.” 

“That is all,” said Mr. Mabry. “We rest 
our case.” 

It was a little after four o’clock, and 
court adjourned until seven. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE CASE GOES TO THEJURY. 

“Yet ye say, the way of the Lor(2 is not equal.” — Ezek. 
18 :25. 

Long before seven o’clock Thursday even- 
ing the court-room was packt by those eager 
to witness the end of the trial and to hear the 
pleading of the attorneys. As the judge read 
his instructions to the jury, the audience lis- 
tened with close attention to every word. 

Herbert’s expression was unchanged, except 
that his face was probably whiter than usual. 

Mrs. Brown rested her head against her 
husband’s shoulder. Her face was very 
white, and she lookt tired and weary, tho 
anxious. 

Both attorneys bore the appearance of men 
under high mental pressure. 

As the county attorney rose to make the 
opening argument, every eye was fixed upon 
him, and a perfect silence prevailed through- 
out the room. His argument was logical and 
convincing, and at times eloquent. He re- 
viewed the evidence, dwelling upon the fact 
that it was upon the testimony of the pris- 
oner’s most intimate friends that the state re- 
274 


275 


THE CASE GOES TO THE JURY 

lied for conviction. He anticipated his op- 
ponents plea for mercy on the grounds of the 
prisoner’s reputation and family relations, and 
replied that if mercy should be shown any one 
it ought to be to him that had been deprived 
of pure social advantages and relations, and 
not to him that had had the advantage of the 
very best. 

Mr. Mabry followed with a most eloquent 
plea for his client. He denounced the testi- 
mony of Nutt as false, and said: 

“The only question in my mind regarding 
his testimony is whether some one as vile as 
he has' bribed him, or whether he has per- 
jured himself simply for the fees as a witness.” 

As he dwelt upon Herbert’s reputation, and 
his high ideals and aims in life that had al- 
ready been thwarted and crushed, every heart 
in the room seemed to thrill with sympathy. 
As he dwelt upon his family and social rela- 
tions, and eloquently referred to his mother 
and sweet-heart every eye it seemed in that 
large audience was wet with tears, not ex- 
cepting the jury and the judge. He reminded 
the jury strongly that the evidence in the case 
was all circumstantial, and while admitting 
that the circumstantial evidence was strong, 
yet he askt, “Could not all the evidence given 
be true, and at the same time the defendant 
be innocent of the crime charged?” He con- 
cluded with : 


276 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Herbert Brown is not guilty of the offense 
charged. Some heart as black as the doom 
of hell holds the secret that would set him 
free. That one may be here tonight,” he 
said, turning toward the audience. “Would 
God that his hellish secret might burn through 
his flesh and blaze out upon his breast here 
before this jury, that the guilty might be pun- 
ished and the innocent go free. Gentlemen 
of the jury, the fate of the prisoner is in your 
hands; and not only the prisoner, but his 
family and friends as well. You have it in 
your power tonight to break the heart of his 
mother there,” continued the speaker, elo- 
quently, pointing toward Herbert’s mother, 
weeping upon the arm of her husband. “You 
have the power tonight to blight forever the 
life of his sweet-heart yonder. Will you do it? 
You have the power tonight, gentlemen of 
the jury, to ruin forever the life, the prospects 
and the hopes of one of the noblest, most hon- 
orable and upright sons of the soil of this coun- 
ty. Will you do it? Time will unravel the 
mystery that shadows this case. Some day the 
damning secret will be uncovered. And then 
if you acquit the defendant today, you will 
again rejoice; and if you do not acquit him, 
you will go down to your graves with the 
burden of the lives your verdict has ruined 
and the souls it has made miserable, upon you. 
A verdict at your hands of ‘guilty* will be re- 


277 


THE CASE GOES TO THE JURY 

ceived by this audience and this county with 
a sickening silence, or a murmur of disap- 
proval. A verdict of ‘not guilty’ will be re- 
ceived by an applause that will make this 
building tremble to its foundations, and the 
thanks and blessings of the law-abiding and 
justice-loving people of this entire com- 
munity. I do not believe that twelve men can 
be found in this county that will find Herbert 
Brown guilty under the evidence in this case, 
and I shall expect at your hands a speedy 
verdict of not guilty .” 

As Mr. Mabry sat down the judge with dif- 
ficulty prevented a demonstration from the 
audience. 

Mr. Robb closed the argument with a ten 
minutes’ speech that was full of logic and con- 
vincing power. The jury was instructed and 
sent to the jury-room, and court adjourned 
until eight o’clock next morning. 

The great assembly broke up in almost wild 
confusion. All manner of speculation was en- 
gaged in. Some loudly predicted that Her- 
bert Brown would be acquitted. Others as 
positively asserted that he would be found 
guilty, while the majority seemed to be of 
opinion it would result in a “hung jury.” 

Mr. Winnow and his wife and Theora left 
the building without more than speaking to a 
few friends, whom they chanced to meet as 
they crowded their way out. 


278 


HERBERT BROWN 


“What do you think will be the decision of 
the jury?” askt Mrs. Winnow of her husband 
as soon as they were clear of the crowd. 

“It’s hard to tell. It will be either convic- 
tion or ‘hung jury,’ and I rather think it will 
be ‘hung jury’.” 

“What is hung jury, papa?” askt Theora. 

“That means a part are for conviction and 
a part for acquittal.” 

“Then you don’t think Herbert will be 
cleared, papa?” askt Theora, manifestly 
alarmed. 

“I don’t look for it, Theora.” 

“Even if he should be cleared,” said Mrs. 
Winnow, “the evidence shows that he is likely 
guilty, and there will always be a cloud over 
his life and prospects. Nearly everybody will 
always think he burned the church house.” 

Theora had never before thought of it in 
this light; but was laboring under the wrong 
impression that if the jury acquitted him that 
would forever settle the question. The little 
hope she had been nourishing vanisht, as she 
for the first time realized that there was no 
bright side to the jury’s decision. She went 
to her room more miserable, if possible, that 
night than ever before. There were many 
sad hearts in Sandpre that night awaiting the 
verdict of the morrow. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

A DYING DECLARATION. 

“Is not my way equal? are not your ways unequal?”— 
Ezek. 18:25. 

“Doc, is there any chance fur me me to git 
well?” 

“I’m afraid not much, Bill.” 

“How long’ve I got yet, Doc? ,, 

“Don’t know, Bill; why?” 

“They’s somethin’ I’ve got ter tell, Doc.” 

The doctor turned and lookt his patient 
straight in the face. He wondered what secret 
Miller was going to reveal, for he knew his 
life of crime hid many. 

“If it’s of any importance, Bill, you’d better 
attend to it at once.” 

“Tain’t uv much importance, Doc, but 
seems somehow I’ve got ter tell it.” 

“You may not be able to tell any secrets 
in an hour, Bill.” 

“That so?” said the patient, starting slight- 
ly. “Then I want you to send for the county 
attorney and Mabry, an’ tell ’em ter bring an 
officer ter take my statemint. Do it quick, 
Doc.” 


279 


280 


HERBERT BROWN 


Dr. Selquin started at the words of his pa- 
tient. He felt sure some important evidence 
was to be revealed in the case now before the 
jury, tho he had not the slightest idea or sus- 
picion how his patient might have come into 
possession of it, or what it was. Miller had 
had so much experience with the law during 
his lawless life that he was pretty well ac- 
quainted with its requirements. The doctor 
went down the flight of steps two at a time, 
and rusht into the hotel office. 

“Mr. Tucker/’ he said, addressing the land- 
lord, whom he found alone in the office — it 
being the breakfast hour, “send some one 
quick for Mr. Robb and some one else for Mr. 
Mabry and tell them to come quick to Miller’s 
room. He’s got something important to tell, 
and it may be too late in an hour. Tell Mr. 
Mabry to bring an officer to take his affidavit. 
Tell them to fly.” 

The doctor returned to watch carefully his 
patient, more on account of the evidence he 
possest, than any real interest in his life. The 
landlord went quickly to the dining-room 
door, and called two of his waiters to the of- 
fice. They were given the message and bid- 
den run with all their speed. 

Mr. Mabry and the clerk of the district 
court were the first to arrive. Mr. Mabry, 


A DYING DECLARATION 


281 


who was past sixty years of age, was quite out 
of breath when he entered the room, but he 
felt that the interest of his client was at stake 
and had run nearly every step of the way. 
In a few minutes the county attorney entered. 
It was just half past seven o’clock. Miller was 
sleeping. 

- “Are you ready for me to wake him?” askt 
the doctor. 

“Yes, wake him,” said Mr. Mabry. 

The doctor bent over him, and spoke his 
name in a low voice. The patient started and 
lookt up with a dazed expression. 

“Bill,” said the doctor, “we’re ready for 
your statement now.” 

The patient again closed his eyes. The doc- 
tor spoke louder, but did not awaken him. He 
seemed alarmed, as he turned quickly and 
poured out a little wine into a glass and] 
poured it into the mouth of the patient. Mil- 
ler opened his eyes again, and turned toward 
the visitors with a look of recognition. 

“You said you wanted to make a statement, 
Bill,” said the doctor. 

“Yes,” said Miller, “are you ready to take 
it down?” 

“We are ready,” answered Mr. Mabry. 
“What is it?” 

“I’m the feller ’at burned the Presbyterian 
church.” 


282 


HERBERT BROWN 


Every one in the room, except the patient 
himself, started at this statement. Though 
all had expected evidence pertaining to that 
matter, yet no one had expected that state- 
ment. Mr. Mabry turned white, and his 
hands clencht nervously. Then quickly re- 
membering himself, he askt : 

“Do you know anything about a little red 
morocco photo-case with Herbert Brown’s 
name on it?” 

“Yes* Herbert Brown dropt that the day 
we had our fight, an’ I foun’ it the nex’ mornin’ 
between the walk an’ the buildin’ when I wus 
sweepin’; an’ I laid it right in front uv the 
steps uv the church after I’d set it afire.” 

“Do you know anything about Nutt’s tes- 
timony?” 

“Yes; I promised ’im the drinks fur a year 
ter tell thet story ’bout his sow.” 

“Some one was heard on the walk at Mr. 
Brown’s home before the fire. Do you know 
anything about that, Bill?” continued Mr. 
Mabry. 

“Thet wus Jim.” 

“You mean Nutt?” 

“Yes; he did thet so’s they’d hev ter testify 
’at they heerd it. Ef he’d a ben caught, he 
wus ter tell ’em he wus ies’ huntin’ fur his 
sow, an’ the whol thing would uv fell through ; 


A DYING DECLARATION 


283 


an’ ef he wusn’t caught, then I wus ter go 
ahead an’ set the fire.” 

Mr. Mabry wrote rapidly for a minute or 
two. Then he read aloud what he had writ- 
ten. 

“Is that right?” he askt the patient. 

“Yes, thet’s all right,” replied Miller. 

“Will that be satisfactory?” askt Mr. 
Mabry, turning to Mr. Robb. 

“Yes,” replied Mr. Robb, “and I assure you 
this is no more a pleasure to you than it is to 
me. I felt sure Herbert Brown was guilty. 
The scheme was well laid.” 

The witness was quickly sworn by the clerk 
of the court, and the others signed as wit- 
nesses. 

“It’s eight o’clock,” said Mr. Robb, looking 
at his watch; “we shall have to hurry.” 

There chanced to be a hack standing just 
across the street. They called the driver, and 
all got in and drove rapidly to the court- 
house. The roll of the jury had just been 
called, and in answer to the judge’s question, 
the foreman had answered: 

“We have not reacht a verdict.” 

The county attorney had paused in an ad- 
jacent room long enough to issue a warrant 
for the arrest of Nutt. 

The judge was just in the act of returning 


284 


HERBERT BROWN 


the jury to their room for further deliberation 
when the little group entered. 

“If the court please/' said Mr. Robb, “we 
desire to ask that the case of Herbert Brown, 
charged with arson, be reopened, as very im- 
portant evidence has just been secured.” 

A few questions relating to the affidavit 
were asked by the judge, and the case was re- 
opened. The clerk of the court read the dying 
statement of Miller. The intensity of feeling 
was apparent on the faces of the audience. 
The case was again submitted to the jury, 
without questions or argument by the coun- 
sel, and the jury retired. 

The news of Miller’s statement had been 
telephoned over town, and within ten minutes 
after the attorneys left the hotel all in any way 
interested in the case had been apprised of it, 
tho the exact statement was not known. 
The streets were alive with people pressing 
toward the court-house. Mr. Rule was one 
of the first to receive information of Mil- 
ler’s confession, and Mrs. Rule immediately 
rang for “Central” and called for Mr. Win- 
now’s number. 

“Hello!” came the response to her call. 

“Hello! Is this Mr. Winnow’s residence?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Is this Mrs. Winnow or Theora?” 


A DYING DECLARATION 


285 


“This is Mrs. Winnow.” 

“This is Mrs. Rule. Have you heard about 
Bill Miller’s confession this morning?” 

“Why, no,” came the response, with eager- 
ness. 

“He has made a statement about burning 
the church house. Mr. Rule thinks he has 
confest doing it himself.” 

“You don’t say so! When did he make the 
statement?” 

“Just a little while ago, and the lawyers 
have taken it and gone to the court-house. 
We are all going as soon as we can get ready. 
Mr. Rule has already gone. I thought likely 
you would want to go.” 

“Why, yes; I think we will.” 

“That’s all. Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye.” 

Theora could hardly believe for joy what 
her mother told her, and still feared there was 
something yet. In a few minutes they, with 
Mr. Winnow, were walking rapidly toward 
the court-house. They found the court-room 
packt to its full capacity, but at sight of 
Theora an opening was made through the 
crowd at the door for them to pass, and seats 
were vacated for them. 

The jury were out barely two minutes. 
They filed in and took their seats. There was 
a breathless silence. 


286 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Has the jury reacht a verdict?” askt the 
judge. 

“It has,” replied the foreman. 

“What is your verdict?” 

“We find the defendant, Herbert Brown, 
not guilty,” replied the foreman in a strong, 
clear voice that reacht every ear in the 
crowded house. 

A deafening roar of applause followed. 
Men tost their hats and caps into the air. 
Women wept for joy. Theora simply claspt 
her hands, and looking upward through her 
tears, said: 

“Thank God!” and then dropping her head 
upon her father’s shoulder, she prest her hand- 
kerchief to her eyes and wept. 

As soon as order was restored by the loud 
rapping of the judge and the commanding 
orders of the constables, the jury was dis- 
charged and the prisoner declared free, and 
the court announced a short recess. 

The judge, the jury, the attorneys and scores 
from the audience prest around Herbert to 
shake his hand. Herbert rose and stood erect 
with that same unchangeable expression on 
his face that he had borne through all the trial. 
Not a tear in his eyes, not a smile on his fea- 
tures in response to the hearty hand-shakes, 
the occasional embraces and the cordial words 
of congratulation from his many friends. 


A DYING DECLARATION 


287 


‘‘Shall we go up and shake hands with Her- 
bert, Theora?” askt Mr. Winnow, good-na- 
turedly, lifting the head of his weeping daugh- 
ter from his arm. 

“No, papa, not now.” 

“O, I think we had better,” replied her 
father, slipping her hand under his arm, and 
taking his wife’s arm with his other hand. 

A large number had past out, and the room 
was no longer crowded, tho many yet prest 
forward to shake hands with Herbert. Rev. 
Merlin was just in front of the little group. 

“Mr. Brown, I wish to express to you my 
heartfelt joy at the happy termination of this 
trial,” said Rev. Merlin, loud enough to be 
heard by all, at the same time extending his 
hand. 

“I will take your word for it, Mr. Merlin, 
without your hand,” replied Herbert, the 
slight curl on his lip marking the only change 
in his countenance. 

The minister, coloring, stept backward, con- 
fused, embarrast, and lookt about him in a 
half simple, half angry manner. Those stand- 
ing near stared in astonishment. Herbert 
stood unmoved. 

“Herbert,” said Mrs. Winnow, extending 
her hand, “we rejoice with your many other 
friends.” 


288 


HERBERT BROWN 


“Thank you,” said Herbert, taking the 
offered hand. 

“Herbert, we all rejoice at the termination 
of this trial,” said Mr. Winnow, shaking 
hands. “Theora wants to congratulate you,” 
he added, loosing her hand from his arm, and 
reaching it toward Herbert. 

Theora had been battling ever since they 
started from their seats to control her feelings 
and to stop her tears. But she was at the 
mercy of a mingled sentiment of over- 
whelming joy at Herbert’s proven innocence, 
and a feeling that she was guilty of a most 
cruel and unpardonable wrong against him. 

As she felt hjm take her hand, she lookt 
up for a moment through her tears into his 
face, and then again quickly dropt her eyes. 

“Forgive me, Herbert,” she said, sobbing. 

Herbert held her hand for a moment. His 
lip trembled. The spell that had bound him 
through all those trying days was broken. 
The tears filled his eyes. He lifted the hand 
and bending toucht it to his lips, and a tear 
fell upon it as he let it drop from his hand. 
Even Mr. Winnow’s eyes were filled with tears 
as they walkt away. Strong men who wit- 
nest the pathetic little scene, as they saw Her- 
bert for the first time give way to his feelings, 
wept. 


A DYING DECLARATION 


2S9 


Herbert and his father walkt home together 
in silence, for their sentiments and feelings 
were too strong for words. The news had 
already been carried to Mrs. Brown by kind, 
eager friends. As Herbert entered the room, 
his mother rose, smiling through her tears, 
and throwing her arms around his neck, first 
kist him, and then dropping her head upon 
his manly breast poured out her flood of joy 
in tears. 

And we leave them thus, for what purer 
picture may we imprint upon the reader’s 
heart? 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


CLOSING OF THE “JOINTS.” 

i 

“Hate the evil, and love the good.” — Amos 5:15. 

“Praise the Lord,” was the telegram re- 
ceived by Herbert Brown from Rev. Powers, 
in reply to a letter written by Mr. Rule in- 
forming him of the results of the trial. 

Herbert remained at his home all the day 
after his discharge, talking with his mother, 
and other friends that called to see him, and 
writing a few letters in the afternoon. 

Half a dozen times during the day Mrs. 
Brown was heard to exclaim, “O, how happy 
I am !” or “O, how thankful we ought to be !” 

Mr. Brown reported business at the store 
much better than usual for Friday. 

They had just finisht eating breakfast Sat- 
urday morning, when the telephone rang. 

“Hello,” said Herbert, placing the receiver 
to his ear. 

“Hello! Is this you, Herbert?” came the 
reply. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“This is Mr. Rule.” 

“Yes, I recognize your voice, Mr. Rule.” 

390 


CLOSING OF THE “ JOINTS ” 


291 


“Are you coming down to the store this 
morning?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Can you stop at the bank ? I should like to 
see you.” 

“At what time, Mr. Rule?” 

“Well, most any time. Would half past 
eight suit you?” 

“Yes, sir; I can stop then.” 

“All right. Thank you. Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye.” 

“I guess I shall not be needed at the store 
before nine. Shall I, father?” 

“O no, there will be no rush before half 
past nine or ten. But I expect we shall have 
a pretty good day, judging from the business 
yesterday.” 

“Mr. Rule wants to see me, and I will stop 
a little while at the bank as I go down.” 

“I expect he wants to talk with you about 
getting Mr. Powers to hold a meeting here. I 
heard something of it yesterday.” 

“I most wish he would,” said Mrs. Brown, 
“I believe he could do good. I have heard 
several speak favorably of his other address, 
and said they would go to hear him again 
should he speak here.” 

The day was bright, the air still and brac- 
ing, and the mercury in the thermometer was 


292 


HERBERT BROWS 


gradually rising — so that a pleasant day was 
promist. Mr. Brown went to the store, and 
Herbert to his room to write a letter before 
going up town. 

“Just come around to the fire, Herbert,’' 
said Mr. Rule, as Herbert walkt into the First 
National Bank. 

“How are you,” continued Mr. Rule, ex- 
tending his hand, for it was the first time 
they had met since the trial. 

“I do not think I ever felt better,’’ replied 
Herbert. “It makes one appreciate blessings 
to think he is about to lose them.’’ 

“We all realize that more than we ever did 
before, Herbert,’’ replied Mr. Rule. “What 
I want to speak to you about is the church 
matter. As you probably know, we let every- 
thing pertaining to that drop when the Pres- 
byterian church was burned, and have been 
awaiting results since. I talkt with several 
yesterday, and all seem to be in favor of going 
right ahead now. What do you think about 
it?’’ 

“I am decidedly in favor of it.’’ 

“What do you think of getting Rev. Pow- 
ers to hold a revival right away?’’ 

“I think that would be just the thing. How 
soon do you think of beginning it?’’ 

“I think we can begin tonight. Court ad- 


CLOSING OF THE “JOINTS" 293 

journs this afternoon, and the county com- 
missioners have agreed *o our using the court- 
house as long as we want to hold meetings.” 

“Good !” 

“Then I will just call Rev. Powers up by 
’phone and see if he can come down on the 
afternoon train and begin the meetings to- 
night. We can have some window posters 
printed, and I am sure we shall have no 
trouble to get the word well circulated,” said 
Mr. Rule, as he rang the telephone. 

“Number,” came the respose from “Cen- 
tral.” 

“I want Rev. Oscar Powers, at Golden, as 
soon as you can get him, please.” 

“All right,” answered “Central,” and Mr. 
Rule hung up the receiver, and reseated him- 
self. 

“Herbert, you have had a very trying ex- 
perience,” said Mr. Rule, tho, in fact, he 
knew nothing of the most trying experience 
Herbert had gone through. 

“Yes,” replied Herbert, as he recalled the 
many dark hours, the periods of despondency 
and discouragement, and — that dark hour of 
despair; and his face turned white as he saw 
again the ghostly vision of himself in the mir- 
ror, with the glistening deadly weapon pointed 
at his temple. “And yet,” he added, after 


294 


HERBERT BROWN 


a moment’s reflection, “I think it is worth all 
it has cost me.” 

Rin-n-n-ng, went the telephone. 

“Hello!” said Mr. Rule, as he placed the re- 
ceiver to his ear. 

“Hello, Mr. Rule. Here’s Rev. Powers, of 
Golden.” 

“All right,” replied Mr. Rule, and he stood 
waiting. 

“Hello!” presently came a clear, strong 
voice, speeding with almost the swiftness of 
thought over seventy-five miles of copper 
wire, and yet as distinct as though the speaker 
were in the same room. 

“Hello! Is this Mr. Powers?” askt Mr. 
Rule. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“This is Mr. Rule, at Sandpre.” 

“I recognize your voice, Mr. Rule.” 

“I have talkt with several here, Mr. Pow- 
ers, and we think now is the time to begin a 
meeting. Can you come?” 

“How soon?” 

“We can get ready to begin tonight, if that 
will suit you.” 

“I think I can come as well this afternoon 
as at any time. I shall have time to get ready 
and to arrange for my church services here 
during my absence, before train time. Go 


CLOSING OF THE “ JOINTS ” 


295 


ahead and make the arrangement. I shall try 
to be there. ” 

“All right. I think you may expect a good 
congregation to greet you tonight. Good- 
bye.” 

“Good-bye.” 

Mr. Rule rang the telephone again before 
leaving. 

“Give me number forty-six, please.” 

“Hello!” came the response. 

“Hello! Is this the Journal office?” 

“Yes, sir; what can I do for you?” 

“This is Mr. Rule, and I want a few win- 
dow posters printed right away. Can you do 
it?” 

“Yes; sir.” 

“How long will it take you to get them 
out, Mr. White?” 

“O, if there is not too much to set, about 
an hour.” 

“All right. Can you send some one to the 
bank for the manuscript?” 

“Yes, sir. Is it ready?” 

“It will be by the time he gets here. Good- 
bye.” 

“Good-bye.” 

Mr. Rule sat down at a table and wrote 
quickly : 

“Rev. Oscar Powers, of Golden, will begin 


296 


HERBERT BROWN 


revival meetings at the Court-house, 7:30 
p. m., tonight (Saturday). Everybody in- 
vited.” 

“Have the other arrangements been made?” 
askt Herbert. 

“Partially,” replied Mr. Rule; “but we shall 
have everything in readiness in time, I think. 
The Jones Music Company has agreed to 
furnish a piano, and I shall make arrange- 
ments with the janitor of the court-house to 
attend the room during the meeting. Yes, 
I think we shall have everything in readiness, 
and a good congregation to start with.” 

“I wish we could get Jake interested,” said 
Herbert, as he took his hat and walkt out of 
the bank. 

When Herbert reacht the store he found 
quite a number already there, some to trade, 
and some to see and talk with him, or with 
his father about him and his trial. It was the 
busiest day the store had had for many Sat- 
urdays, and the day past quickly. 

As soon as the posters announcing the 
meeting were in the windows of the business 
houses, the conversation of the street turned 
from Herbert to the meeting; or rather, to 
the two associated, for there was a feeling in 
all minds that the two were closely related, 
and this served an excellent purpose in ad- 
vertising the meeting. 


CLOSING OF THE “ JOINTS ” 297 

The six o’clock train, on which Rev. Powers 
was expected, was reported first an hour, then 
an hour and a half, and finally two hours late. 
At half past seven o’clock the court room was 
fairly well filled, which, considering the size 
of the room and the shortness of the notice, 
showed extraordinary interest. At eight 
o’clock the audience had become somewhat 
restless. Herbert had gone to the depot to 
meet Rev. Powers. Mr. Rule stept over to 
where Rev. Bailey, the old minister, was sit- 
ting. 

“Rev. Bailey, will you come forward and 
take charge of the meeting until Rev. Pow- 
ers arrives? I think the train will be in 
shortly.” 

“Yes,” replied the minister, following Mr. 
Rule to the front. 

Just then the long, loud whistle of the pas- 
senger train was heard, and there was a stir 
and a murmur through the audience. The de- 
pot was only two blocks from the court-house, 
and the audience had barely finisht the first 
song, when Herbert, followed by Rev. Pow- 
ers, entered the room. Some one started a 
cheer, and the whole audience broke out in 
hearty hand-clapping. Rev. Powers bowed, 
and after a few words with the Baptist min- 
ister, stept forward, with his open Bible in 


298 


HERBERT BROWN 


his hand, and read a passage of Scripture, after 
which Rev. Bailey led in prayer. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the minister, 
as soon as the audience was seated after 
the prayer, “as I walkt up the street of your 
town this evening, I saw what is a disgrace 
to any Christian community in this state. I 
past two saloons running in open violation of 
the laws. They were crowded with young 
men and boys that ought to be here. They 
are damning the souls of your boys, your 
brothers and your husbands. They are 
blighting the hopes of your daughters and 
destroying the happiness of your homes. I do 
not propose to hold a meeting in this town 
with those hell-traps open. They must be 
closed. I will appoint as a committee to call 
upon the proprietors of those ‘joints’ after 
this meeting closes, and to demand of them 
that they close their doors, both front and 
back, and keep them closed, Mr. Rule, Mr. 
Hudson and Mr. Herbert Brown. As to 
whether they shall open after the meeting 
has closed, we shall consider that matter later. 
Let those in this audience that approve of this 
committee say amen ” 

There was a strong response all over the 
room. While this was an entire surprise to 
every one, not excepting even the committee 


CLOSING OF THE “ JOINTS ” 


209 


itself, yet the manner in which it was done 
had inspired confidence ; and scarcely one 
present doubted that the saloons, which had 
been running on the plea that they could not 
be closed, would be closed. 

“The two greatest evils of this day and 
generation,” continued the speaker, “the twin 
monsters of iniquity, are sectarianism, or re- 
ligious schism, and intemperance. The one 
binds the strong man of the house while the 
other spoils his goods.” 

The minister spoke forcefully and eloquent- 
ly for half an hour, and then announcing the 
next meeting, dismist the audience. 

There were but two “joints” then running, 
as Miller’s place had been closed since his 
death, awaiting the inquiry of the officials 
as to whether he had living heirs. The com- 
mittee, after a brief conversation with the 
minister, left the court-house and went di- 
rectly to the nearest “joint.” When they en- 
tered the place, it was apparent that parties 
from the meeting had preceded them, and that 
they were expected. Mr. Rule stept quietly 
up to the proprietor, the small one-eyed man, 
mentioned in a previous chapter, and said in 
a low but decided tone: 

“We are a committee appointed to call upon 
you and ask that your place of business here 


300 


HERBERT BROWN 


be closed up and kept absolutely closed during 
the meetings now in progress at the court- 
house.’’ 

“Just uv evenin’s while the meetin’s hold, 
do you mean?” askt the proprietor, rather 
uneasily. 

“No, Mr. Hensen, we mean that you lock 
up your building tonight, and that you do not 
open a door or window day or night until this 
meeting has closed,” replied Mr. Rule, with a 
business precision that was convincing. 

“And then you’ll not bother us after the 
meetin’ is closed?” askt Hensen, inquisi- 
tively. 

“We have nothing to say as to that at pres- 
ent,” replied Mr. Rule, with a curtness that 
indicated a disinclination toward further dis- 
cussion. 

“Well, I reckon we’ll have to try to do 
what we can to help the meetin’ along,” re- 
plied the other, with a grin toward the crowd 
in the saloon. 

“Then may we depend upon your shutting 
up this place and keeping it closed until the 
meeting ends?” 

“Yes, sir. You can sure depend upon it.” 

“Thank you,” said Mr. Rule. “We shall 
be glad to have you all attend the meetings. 
There will be preaching at the court-house 
tomorrow at eleven and tomorrow evening.” 


CLOSING OF THE “ JOINTS ” 301 

The other “joint” was only half a block 
away. Several followed the committee from 
Hensen’s place to see “the performance,” as 
they termed it, at Smith’s “joint.” 

“Will you do the talking at the next?” 
askt Mr. Rule, addressing Mr. Hudson. 

“O, no; I do not think it advisable to depose 
a victorious officer right in the presence of 
another engagement. You go ahead. Her- 
bert and I prefer the position of ‘The man be- 
hind the gun,’ ” and they all laught at Mr. 
Hudson’s humor. 

They found Smith’s place as well filled as 
was the other. 

“We have come as a committee, Mr. 
Smith,” said Mr. Rule, “to request that you 
close up your ‘joint’ here until the meetings 
now in progress at the court-house are 
closed.” 

“W’at right ’av ye got ter be a tellin’ me 
w’at I’ve got ter do er w’at I’ve not got ter 
do? I don’t interfere with yore bis’ness,” re- 
plied Smith, half complainingly, half savagely. 

Smith was a man of rather more than or- 
dinary height, raw-boned, and a face that was 
anything but prepossessing. He was very 
ignorant, as his language indicates; and, in 
fact, had spent a number of years of his shift- 
less life as an ordinary tramp. 


302 


HERBERT BROWN 


“We want your answer, Mr. Smith,” said 
Mr. Rule, firmly, and with a little emphasis. 
“We demand of you that you close up this 
place tonight and that you keep it closed day 
and night until the meetings have ended, at 
least; Will you do it?” 

“No, by G — d, I won’t. I’m not a botherin’ 

yer d d meetin’, an’ it hain’t got no bis’- 

ness a botherin’ me.” 

“I think it is simply a matter of choice be- 
tween closing and being closed,” said Herbert, 
“and I should guess the easiest thing would 
be to close.” 

“I’ve got the council a backin’ me, an’ I 
guess, by G — d, they’ll ’ave somethin’ ter say 
w’en ye go ter close me up.” 

“The city council cannot do anything for 
you, even if they wanted to,” said Mr. Rule, 
“and the wise thing for you to do is to close 
up this place tonight and keep it closed. You 
are pretty sure to get into trouble if it is open 
again while the meeting is in progress. You 
are all invited to attend the meetings at the 
court-house tomorrow morning and tomorrow 
evening,” added Mr. Rule, as the committee 
left the room. 

“What if he doesn’t close,” askt Mr. Hud- 
son, as the three walkt away. 

“I judge from the tone of Mr. Powers’ re- 


CLOSING OF THE “ JOINTS ” 303 

marks that he will insist upon its being 
closed,” replied Mr. Rule. 

“He’s right, too,” said Mr. Hudson; “I 
could not help feeling guilty myself while he 
was talking tonight, when I remembered that 
I had never done a thing toward closing up 
those places. This whole trouble of Her- 
bert’s and Jake Adams’ and the burning of 
the church has come directly out of those 
‘joints.’ ” 

“Yes,” replied Mr. Rule, “I realize that we 
have not done our duty, and am heartily in 
favor of closing the ‘joints’ in this town, and 
keeping them closed.” 

“If those ‘joints’, or either of them, are 
open Monday morning,” said Herbert, “I am 
in favor of arresting the proprietors at once. 
There is certainly abundance of evidence, and 
if the officers will do their duty they can get 
all the evidence they need right in the ‘joints’ 
when they seize the goods.” 

“Do they have any saloons at Golden?” 
askt Mr. Hudson, addressing Herbert. 

“No, sir; not a ‘joint’ in the town. Rev. 
Powers told me they had a long, hard fight 
there. They had five saloons running there 
almost night and day. After they had or- 
ganized the new church, they determined to 
close them, and tho the officers and the 


304 


HERBERT BROWN 


council were against them, and the churches 
indifferent, they succeeded after a long, hard 
fight in the courts, and no one thinks of open- 
ing up such a business there any more.” 

“I think it’s our own cowardice more than 
anything else, that’s to blame for their run- 
ning here,” said Mr. Hudson. 

“I do not know but that you are right,” said 
Mr. Rule, as they reacht the corner where 
their several ways parted. 


CHAPTER XXV. 
THE REVIVAL. 


“Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which 
is evil ; cleave to that which is good.” — Rom. 12 :g. 

All the churches, except the Baptist, held 
their regular services on the following Sun- 
day, and yet there was a good congregation 
at the morning service at the court-house, and 
in the evening not all could be seated. A 
large number from each of the churches were 
present in spite of their own churches, hold- 
ing services. 

At the evening service the minister closed 
his discourse with : 

“No church has authority either to receive 
or to dismiss members. This is too sacred an 
office to be entrusted to erring, self-righteous 
man, and is therefore one of the things God 
has reserved unto Himself. But like our first 
parents, man is not satisfied until he has eaten 
of the ‘forbidden fruit,’ and so men have 
robbed God of this authority, and have as- 
sumed to themselves the arrogant office of 
receiving into the church on man-made tests 
of fellowship that are not tests of Christian 


306 


HERBERT BROWN 


character. Against this unwarranted and in- 
solent authority of men, we stand opposed, 
holding the Bible and the Bible only as our 
faith, and granting to each his God-given right 
to interpret it for himself. How many in this 
audience tonight are willing to stand on this 
platform, offering to all Christ’s followers full 
fellowship, regardless of honest differences of 
opinion on doctrinal points. I want to ask all 
that are willing to do this to rise to your feet, 
and to remain standing for a moment.” 

People in all parts of the house began to 
rise. Some forty or more from the Baptist 
church stood. Mr. Rule’s entire family, Mr. 
Winnow’s family, Mr. Hudson and his wife, 
Herbert and several others, including a few 
from each of the other churches, rose. Mr. 
Brown turned and spoke to his wife sitting at 
his side. She nodded, and they, too, rose. 

“Are there not others that are willing to 
stand on the platform God has given in prefer- 
ence to platforms made, or at least arranged, 
by man?” askt the minister. 

A few more rose. There were nearly an 
hundred standing. 

“I desire those standing, and as many more 
as may desire, to meet here in this room to- 
morrow afternoon at two o’clock to make per- 


THE REVIVAL 


307 


manent arrangements,” and pronouncing the 
benediction, he dismist the audience. 

“The new preacher” and “the new doc- 
trines” were everywhere in Sandpre the chief 
topics of conversation. His radical position 
against the “joints” had awakened much in- 
terest and discussion. All were wondering 
whether the “joints” would be closed Monday, 
and if not, what would be done. But when 
Monday morning arrived, the doors of both 
saloons were lockt and the windows closely 
curtained, and there was no response to the 
loud knocking of a few regular customers who 
went early for their morning drams. 

The meeting Monday afternoon was at- 
tended by about one hundred and fifty per- 
sons, and a church was organized with ninety- 
two members. 

The attendance at the court-house con- 
tinued large, and it seemed that each night 
the eloquence and earnestness of the speaker 
increased, and his statements and doctrines 
became more startling. Members of the 
“orthodox” churches, who at first, through 
prejudice stayed away, now through curiosity 
to hear and to see the man so much talkt of 
everywhere, were crowding their way into the 
court-room night after night. Even many of 
the roughs and toughs of the town, who before 


308 


HERBERT BROWN 


spent their evenings at the saloons, attended 
the meetings. Every evening there were con- 
versions or additions to the new church. A 
number from the other denominations united 
with the new organization. Some of the most 
noted and hopeless characters in the town 
made profession of religion. Uncle Tim 
Griggs was present the first night of the meet- 
ing, and had not mist a night since. Jake 
Adams was there at the first Sunday even- 
ing’s service, and had attended irregularly 
since. 

On Saturday evening, just two weeks after 
the meeting had begun, Rev. Powers was con- 
ducting a short praise service. The meeting 
was enthusiastic. The new converts were 
eager to testify to their faith, and others were 
fully as eager to take part in the meeting. 
Half a dozen or more were on the floor at once 
awaiting their opportunity to speak, when the 
minister, raising his hand, pointed toward the 
rear of the room, and said, “Mr. Griggs, next.” 
The instant the watchful eye of the minister 
saw the old man rise up, tho several were al- 
ready on the floor waiting, he gave him op- 
portunity to speak. The whole audience# 
started and turned in the direction the min- 
ister was pointing. For “Uncle Tim” to speak 
in church was a thing never head of. 


THE REVIVAL 


309 


“I hain’t never made no pertenshuns ter re- 
ligin, an’ I hain’t never took no stock in the 
churches. I tried once w’en I wus a young 
man ter make a start, but some tol’ me one 
thin’ an’ some another, jes’ like they did Jake 
thar,” pointing toward Jake Adams, who was 
sitting near him, “when he tried ter be a 
Christin las’ fall. I couldn’t read fur myse’f 
an’ so I jes’ give it up, an’ I’ve never felt like 
I wanted ter be a Christin since till this 
meetin’. But I’ve made up my min’ durin’ 
this meetin’ ter try ter be a Christin the res’ 
uv my days. Jes’ sixty-two years ago las’ 
night my mother died,” continued the old 
man, choking for a moment. “I wus only four 
years ol’, but I remember it as well’s tho 
it wus only las’ night. She put her arms roun’ 
me an’ kist me, tho I didn’t understan’ it 
then. She wus a Christin, an’ I think she 
mus’ be in heaven now,” said the old frontiers- 
man, the tears flowing down his cheeks. “I 
had eight brothers an’ sisters older’n me, an’ 
one younger. They’re all gone now, an’ I 
don’ expect ter be here much longer. I thank 
God fur this meetin’.” 

As the old man sat down, “Amens” and 
“Praise-the-Lords” were heard all over the 
room. His simple, earnest story, combined 
with his well known honesty and uprightness 
of character had toucht every heart there. 


310 


HERBERT BROWN 


At the close of the meeting that evening, 
when the invitation was given, “Uncle Tim” 
was among the number that came forward 
and united with the church. Jake Adams 
stood with downcast face, but refused to go 
forward, though one or two went to him and 
tried to persuade him. 

The Sunday evening following was the last 
meeting of the series. The room was packt 
to overflowing. The minister preacht a 
strong and eloquent sermon, and closed with 
a very earnest invitation. Several came for- 
ward. Herbert Brown’s eyes were turned to- 
ward Jake Adams, who was standing with 
downcast eyes in the back of the room. Her- 
bert remembered the dying request of Jake’s 
mother, and his promise to her. He remem- 
bered, too, her delirious prayers for her only 
boy. He felt that Jake’s happiness, success, 
and future eternal salvation depended upon 
this moment’s decision. One or two stept 
over and spoke to Jake, and Herbert saw him 
shake his head, and they turned away. The 
choir had reacht the last verse and began to 
sing, “O, why do you wait, dear brother, etc.” 
Herbert’s eyes filled with tears. He could 
wait no longer, but walkt back to where Jake 
was standing, and laying his hand on his 
shoulder, said : 


THE REVIVAL 


311 


“Jake, don’t you want to be a Christian?” 

“Yes ; but I can’t,” replied Jake, brokenly. 

“It won’t be so hard this time, Jake. You 
won’t object to the creed of this church, will 
you ?” 

“O no, Herbert; but I am so wicked. I 
can’t live a Christian.” 

“But we’ll help you, Jake. There shall 
never again be any saloons in this town to 
tempt you. Remember, Jake, your mother 
died praying for you.” 

“O, my poor mother !” said Jake, his form 
shaking with his sobs. 

“Come, Jake,” and Herbert led the way to 
the front. 

Jake followed with bowed head, the tears 
flowing down his cheeks, and knelt at the 
platform, weeping aloud. Sobs were heard all 
over the room. 

“Let us kneel in prayer,” said the minister. 

At the close of the prayer, Jake Adams rose, 
shouting, — 

“Praise the Lord! I’m saved!” 

The enthusiasm was great. Women shouted 
and wept, and men shed tears. 

The meeting had been a success. There 
were now over two hundred members of the 
new church. The minister closed the meet- 
ings with the following words, — 


312 


HERBERT BROWN 


“The twin evils of this day are intemper- 
ance and religious schism. Let this church 
stand as an enemy, a vital enemy, a mortal 
enemy, against them both. Let it never re- 
fuse fellowship, full church fellowship, to any 
and every child of God. Let the Bible with a 
free individual interpretation of its doctrines 
be our creed, and not man-made confessions, 
codes, or articles of religion. Let Christian 
character, and not doctrinal opinions, be our 
only test of fellowship. Let us never again 
blur the pure, holy pages of the Word of God 
with the blackening ink of the ‘doctrines of 
men.’ Let us cease to hide from the world 
the pure and perfect face of the Son of God 
by the veil of priesthood. ,, 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

A PRESENT GLIMPSE OF SANDPRE. 

“We know that all things work together for good to 
them that love God.” — Rom. 8:28. 

Half a dozen years have passed since the 
period covered by as many months recorded 
in this book. Should the reader drive through 
the beautiful, wide, clean streets of Sandpre 
today, he will pass not a “joint” or saloon. 
Over the door of the place where “Bill” Miller 
kept his “joint” he reads, “Hudson & Co., 
Hardware.” Jake Adams frequents the place 
even more regularly now than he did then, for 
he is a trusted employe. But he spends his 
evenings with his wife at the little cottage, 
now hardly recognizable on account of its im- 
provements, where he and his devoted mother 
lived so long. If we drive down the main 
street a block from the business center of the 
town, and then turn half a block west, we are 
in front of the magnificent “Union Chapel,” 
now the largest church, both in size of house 
and in size of congregation, in the town. Half 
a block farther, and we are in front of a neat, 

313 


314 


HERBERT BROWN 


cozy cottage, with flowers and shrubs grow- 
ing profusely in the front yard. 

“Hello, little man, what’s your name?” we 
say to a three or four year old boy playing in 
* the yard, as we draw rein in front of the cot- 
tage. 

“Oscar Powers Brown,” comes the clear, 
distinct, childish voice, as he turns toward us 
a face, beaming with childish vigor and mis- 
chief, — a face in which we see clearly inter- 
mingled the beauty of Theora Winnow and 
the manliness of Herbert Brown. May he 
combine with that beauty of feature and man- 
liness of character the power and courage of 
conviction of the young minister whose name 
he bears. 


THE END. 
























































































































































OCT 1 14 19» 


























































































. 


















library of congress 








